Babiole
by Backroads
Summary: Fairy tales are all same:  adventures, true love, true love lost, getting it back. At least that's how it works for humans.  A capuchin, on the other hand?  Just how would it all that work out for her?
1. Babiole

_This is based on the French fairy tale "Babiole". I've wanted to do this piece for, well, years, just because it's so wonderfully unusual._

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I know how all fairy tales begin. Once upon a time and all those other charming phrases that every bored woman able to chatter her way into a literature parlor likes to use. Those would then break into a lovely setting with a lovely princess or handsome prince just before they change the world.

I know less about how they end. I had never much cared for fiction. That was always Bastien's thing, and for as long as I could remember he was given piles of storybooks for every gift-giving even that occurred and would then proceed to spend hours pouring through mindless stories. All too often he would try to read them to me. Listening to way-too-similar stories over and over again via the dull voice of Bastien was more than I could handle most days. Then again, he would say the same things about my choices, especially when I was going through my Asian history phase. Still, I figured the dynasties of China were a lot more crucial than stories and that Bastien was nothing but a dumb boy. Still, I heard enough from him to get a decent idea of how fairy tales worked.

Bastien loved them more than I did. He liked the idealism, the heroics, the endings whether ridiculously happy or melodramatically tragic. I never paid attention to the specific details. To me, a fairy tale was some royal twit or country bumpkin off on some exciting adventure and meeting their true love and who really had any interest after that?

Apparently all this fantastical fluff was a human thing and I just wasn't meant to get it. After all, what would a monkey care about fairy tales?

Frankly, everyone should just be impressed a monkey like me could comprehend fiction.

Yes, that's what I am. A monkey. Babiole, delight and pride of the royal court of Harishmont.

Specifically I'm a capuchin and an adorable one at that. Monkeys from the New World were a rarity, so I probably would have been popular even if I hadn't possessed the ability to speak. Now that would have been something. A dumb monkey scampering up and down the court while guests oohed and awed. I'm disgusted just thinking about it. Maybe they would throw peanuts at the same time for that alternate dumb monkey to eat.

Queen Flore had much more respect and love for me than that. I was certainly a fixture in the court, but not because of my monkey-ness but the fact that I tended to know more than the average noble idiot looking to see Queen Flore's talking monkey.

I had originally come as a pet for Bastien. Pet. I hated that word and would ever praise the day Queen Flore had realized I was much more than your average capuchin. I had heard the story many times. She had seen some moron trying to drown me in the ocean and had rescued me for her son. My first memories were of Bastien's quarters, his loud manners, and endless rough housing. Good times, though they had included all his stupid storybooks. His mother was more with it than he and soon started "the monkey" with all the same tutors as Bastien. You could imagine how my fame spread from there. Soon Bastien's quarters was merely a room in the palace rather than my home and Queen Flore was dressing me as fine as any of her ladies.

I will admit, until I read a report on the habitats of other members of my species, I was clueless to just how a capuchin was supposed to live. But I didn't care. Growing up in a palace was about as wonderful as one would expect. Big, fancy, lots of things to climb, lots of people to see. I had access to every room and every stretch of the grounds.

Except for His Royal Idiot Prince Bastien, life was perfect.

Until I turned thirteen.

That was when I started believing, perhaps a little too late, in fairy tales.

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_To Be Continued..._


	2. In Which Babiole Spies

**Chapter 1: In Which Babiole Spies**

Queen Flore had always had a thing for trees. I imagined it was because she was like a tree herself, tall and strong and beautiful; how could someone like her not be drawn to such powerful plants? She collected them in her gardens till one could hardly call them gardens but rather orchards. It became common knowledge that when wanting to win the favor of the Queen one should bring her a tree. She hired the finest gardeners to care for them, but it was just as likely that she would be out there in her sturdiest clothes pruning them herself. I had always watched her with those trees, admiring her beauty that showed even in those relatively humble work clothes. What sort of queen would get down and dirty in the soil? A good one—Queen Flore and her kingdom were powerful, even more powerful than when her husband was alive. I hoped she would stay in power long. She was respected, slightly feared, but popular. She was a great queen in all ways, and still lovely with her golden hair that fell all the way to her feet and drew suitors who paid no mind to the fact that she sent them all away. I don't know what they would have thought to see her working among the trees, but that was how I best liked to see her.

When I was younger, I liked to pretend she planted those trees for me. Then I read somewhere that many of them simply could not grow high enough fast enough for that to be reasonable. Still, I liked climbing, Queen Flore liked trees, and everything worked out for the best. We had to be kindred spirits.

One morning in the middle of summer I was enjoying one of my favorite pastimes: climbing. The tree boughs often ran together in a perfect canopy, providing hours of privacy without ever touching the ground. And I could move fast. Over the years I had learned every tree, every branch, every inch of bark and how that bark felt beneath my hands. I knew which branches could support me when I wrapped my tail around them and which ones even someone as small as I should keep away from. I liked to pretend the trees were my own personal palace. I had imagined just what everything would look like if I had my way. It was something I would never mention to anyone, especially after all my rants against Bastien and his fiction, but kept as my own secret indulgence.

The trees had another purpose, though. Spying. Which is why I was up there that day.

Bastien was sixteen, making him about three when I was brought to the palace, but now was nothing like that toddler with whom I had played. Oh, now he was so much more interesting and fun than that. Bastien had discovered… girls. Actually, he had discovered them long ago, but only until recently had Queen Flore agreed to allow any in his presence. Knowingly. It was my personal opinion she feared him getting married and stealing the throne. Bastien had made many friends with many servant girls over the years who were only too glad to steal a few kisses from the Prince himself. Only I knew about those, as he had somehow decided I was the perfect confidant for his love life. I figured it was pretty funny when it was up to and he wasn't doing anything more than kissing girls and winking at them, so far be it from me to tell his mother what he was up to. Now she was giving in to the fact that her son was quickly becoming a young man and she couldn't keep princesses and court ladies away from him forever.

This morning's plan was a stroll around the palace grounds before a lunch—with the Queen, of course. This particular girl's name was Florine. I figured myself a passing expert on human beauty, and she certainly was. Small and dark with luminous eyes and the most annoying laugh I had ever heard. I wasn't sure if she were a princess or a some lord's daughter or niece of fifth cousin twice removed or what. I just found it really funny how she clung to Bastien's arm until he winced visibly with pain and laughed and laughed and laughed.

I followed them on my own walkway above, making sure not to make a sound or knock down a leaf or twig or anything that would give me away too early. Yes, this was a great pastime: Spying on Bastien.

I don't think he liked this Florine girl, despite how pretty she was. I could read his face, and somewhere alongside the pain was the desperation of a boy ready to run screaming for safety. But he was the Prince and the son of Queen Flore, blessed with better manners and less sense than that, and he just kept smiling and talking while she laughed. How much air did one need in one's lungs to maintain that?

They stopped at a fountain, a picturesque little circle of stones with an angel statue. Florine sat down, pulling Bastien down with her. "I'm so tired!"

I would never understand that about humans. They tired so quickly.

"The grounds are very large," Bastien replied. He was a rather astute boy. "I mean, you could get lost in them very easily."

Florine laughed. "Oh! I'd be so scared if we were lost!"

"The palace is just that way." He pointed. And not in the direction of the palace, I might add.

Florine laughed. "So we're not lost?"

"We're fine." She must have been squeezing his arm again, because the pained look had grown.

I rolled my eyes, tore a piece of bark from my current branch, and dropped it down into the fountain. Now, a piece of bark isn't exactly going to make a huge splash, but it was ripple enough.

Florine actually screamed and jumped to her feet, freeing Bastien of her grip. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

Florine must have good hearing. I had misjudged her. "Something fell, Bastien. Something fell."

He looked up. I knew he couldn't see me, but at least he made the effort. If he were indeed looking for me. "Probably a squirrel or a bird."

Her face changed and that darned scream switched back to a laugh. "What sort of birds do you keep? Any peacocks?"

Hah. Peacocks. Boisterous birds with no brains. Queen Flore would never keep them. I tore off a bigger chunk of bark, one the size of my head. Then, without a trace of guilt, dropped right in front of Florine's feet.

She screamed again.

"We don't keep any tame birds," Bastien mused as he barely glanced at the screaming girl.

"Something is up there throwing things! Or…" And this where she gave the most idiotic gasp. "Your trees are falling."

Maybe I should have aimed for head. Why could I not be mean? I had to learn how to be mean. By all accounts someone should not to be alive. Then again, educating human women was something rather new and still frowned upon in circles in favor of women pursuing other achievements and it was not my place as a monkey to judge.

"Yes," Bastien said after a pause. "Yes, Florine, the trees were falling."

I smiled. Now Bastien was an idiot, but at least he was smart enough not to give me away.

But now Florine was in mortal terror of being crushed by Queen Flore's collection of forest and what was a prince to do? He sighed, pushed a hand through his blonde hair, and called "Babiole!"

He was going to pay for that.

Florine's mood bounced right back with another inane laugh. "The monkey? Oh, you haven't shown me the monkey! Everyone says that when you come here you have to see the monkey and there are no excuses."

I hated being known as "the monkey." I had a name.

"She's up there," Bastien said, sounding annoyed. "She does this. She's young, a kid still. Babiole! Now!"

It had been too many years since I had been considered anyone's pet and therefore I did not have to obey anyone but Queen Flore and that was simply because she was the Queen. I poked my head out of the tree branches. "What?"

Florine gasped, those pretty dark eyes sparkling. "Bastien! She's enchanting!"

I was pretty enchanting, no doubt about that.

"Were you throwing stuff?" Bastien asked, grey eyes going dark.

I rolled my own eyes. Was the answer not obvious. "Yes."

"It's perfectly all right," Florine said with a giggle. "Come here, dear one! Let me see you! Such a naughty little creature."

I looked to Bastien.

He shrugged. "She would like to meet you."

Everyone liked to meet me. "Catch me, please."

He held out his arms, and I swung down from the bough. An awkward thing to do in a dress. It might be considered odd for a monkey to wear a dress, but I had never thought much about it myself. All I known is that I had always worn dresses and was morally shocked at the thought of going without one. Besides, Queen Flore had excellent taste. Fortunately, I had mastered the modesty aspect of jumping through the air and climbing trees, and I was able to make it to Bastien's arms without my decency being questioned. I rested on Bastien's shoulder and curtsied to Florine. Queen Flore had made sure I could curtsey as properly as a princess.

"I am Babiole," I said too sweetly. "It is the greatest of pleasures to make your acquaintance, Florine."

The idiot girl of course laughed. "She knows my name."

I also knew better than to be rude to guests' faces, though I couldn't help but exchange a quick grin with Bastien. All the servant girls had been much brighter than this. Why could he not just run off with one of them?

Florine was in rapture. "Bastien, make her say something!"

He frowned. Was it the first frown he had presented around this girl? "What would you like her to say?"

"A song! Have her sing a song!"

"Babiole doesn't sing."

I nodded in agreement. It was a truth I couldn't not deny: Despite all the music tutors, I had no singing voice to speak of.

Florine didn't seem to hear. "A monkey song! How cute that would be! Just some little ditty. You must have trained her to sing something!"

"Babiole isn't trained to do anything. She just is this way."

Florine's face fell. "So she doesn't sing?"

I shook my head. "Sorry. Trust me, you do not want to hear me sing."

Well, at least she managed to get herself back into some sort of little smile.

Bastien cleared his throat. There was only so much time one could spend by a charming little fountain. "I think it's nearly time for lunch. We should return."

"I could use a bite." Florine once again took his arm, the arm opposite of the shoulder on which I rode.

To my credit, I tried my best to make conversation with the girl, if all out of respect for Queen Flore. I asked her what her title was, what she liked, all the proper questions, but her only reply to them was a series of giggles and remarks about how cute I was. And there was poor Bastien between us.

"Sorry, but I don't like her," I whispered into his ear. ("Aw, she's talking to you!" from Florine.)

He shook his head.

We would have to have a better conversation later. Eventually, I ran out of comments and questions for Florine and we walked in silence until I think even she could sense the discomfort. I settled back and stared at the passing trees until the palace came into view.

Fortunately at that time, Florine insisted that she had to change into a dress more suitable for a meal as the other one was clearly meant for walking. Which she was probably right about, so I didn't argue. I don't think Bastien cared one way or the other. He escorted her as far as was proper and then called a servant to escort her to the guest chambers.

"Wow," I said as soon as she was gone. I hopped from Bastien's shoulder onto a table. "Where did your mother find her?"

Bastien squeezed his fists together and gave a mostly silent scream. "Babiole, you have no idea. Four hours walking around. Four hours! It doesn't take that long! It shouldn't take anyone that long!"

I laughed and pulled a leaf from my tail fur. "You didn't find that romantic?"

"No. She has to be the dumbest creature I've ever seen."

"But she's pretty," I pointed out.

His enraged face slowly made way to a smile and a laugh. "I'm shallow, then."

"No, you're just weird. Not shallow, thank goodness, or I'd have to bite you." I had never bitten anyone, at least not since I was four. And often then it had been Bastien. "Listen. These little times together. They're great. It's better than you in a closet with a servant girl. And some of these girls I really like. They're cute, they can carry on a conversation, they don't refer to me as "the monkey." They're excellent. Others, well, I'm afraid I just can't give as glowing a review."

He put up his hands. "I completely agree. You can screen them for me."

"That's my job. Someone has to." And it was true. Prince Bastien was popular. Besides the title, he had grown up to be rather handsome. Still a little gangly, but his face was good.

"And I appreciate. Just… don't throw stuff at them. It's juvenile." He took his thumb and stroke the fur between my eyes, which I had always hated and he knew that. I jerked away.

"I can't help it. And you did call me a kid."

He thought about it. "Yes, you are."

A servant appeared then. "Your Highness, the Queen says the luncheon is nearly served."

I looked to Bastien. "Do I have to come?"

He shrugged. "Did my mother invite you?"

"I don't know." I twitched my tail. "Did she say anything to you? She never said anything to me."

"Not a word. I take it you're not coming."

"Not unless she calls for me. And even then I'll definitely have to think about it."

He looked desperate. "Let me join you."

I laughed and scampered down the hallway.

Outdoors was much more peaceful without the chatterings of Florine. I stole a couple of early peaches and settled down by the brook that flowed past a collection of weeping willows. I had always liked willows. They just looked so depressed, it was funny. I curled up on a rock and set to eating the peaches as daintily as I could while I listened to the babbling water.

"Babiole."

I looked up.

A tiny woman, about my size was fluttering near the shore. Fluttering.

For a moment I wondered if the peaches were poisoned and I was now dead or hallucinating.

Besides her unusually small size, she looked humanoid in every other fashion. Except for the wings. Grey, fluffy wings sprouting right out of her back.

I dropped my peach into the water.

"Babiole," she repeated with a sigh and a smile. "You're beautiful."

"Thank-you." I didn't know what else to say. "Um, who are you?"

"Your fairy godmother. Fanferluche."

I pushed the other peaches into the water. "Excuse me?"

But the little winged woman who called herself Fanferluche (if I were hallucinating, where would I get that kind of name?) just smiled. "I… owe you a favor, Babiole. Anything you want."

"Anything?" I took a breath. I must be mad.

"Anything at all."

I released the breath as I made my decision. "Thank-you all the same, but… no. There's nothing I need." How did one speak to a hallucination?

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure. I wasn't aware I had a fairy godmother and I've gone this long without one, thank-you very much."

She did not look happy, but to her credit she did nothing but sigh and shake her head. "Well, then. Keep me in mind. You only have to say my name. Fanferluche."

I had no intention of remembering it.

And then she thankfully disappeared.

Bastien was going to love hearing about this one.


	3. In Which Babiole Sulks

**Chapter 2: In Which Babiole Sulks**

Of course, Bastien did nothing but assume that I made up my meeting with my so-called fairy godmother. Idiot. Did he not realize that it would be beneath me to make up something that stupid? But his reaction was just a laugh and a few quips about my poor eyesight when everyone knew I had excellent eyesight. It was times like that I wish I still bit people.

At least I was able to avoid the luncheon with Florine. Bastien had not been so lucky.

Now I must make it clear that I did not pout. I hated pouting and I hated people who did it. It was childish, even as juvenile as I could be, and was nothing anyone brought up in a royal court should do. But Bastien was one of the most frustrating humans I knew. I adored him, of course, with the sort of adoration that rose from growing up with someone. He was my best friend despite all of his flaws. And I knew those flaws all too well. Which is why I should not have been surprised when he didn't believe me.

But I was surprised, because Bastien had always been the one obsessed with fiction and fairy tales. He should have eaten that right up. Fairy godmothers. He should have been pouting over the fact that I apparently had one and he didn't, at least as far as I knew. Maybe he didn't believe me because the story had come from me. So he had done what he should have done and taken it as a joke.

Whatever I felt, I retreated to my room, furious and thinking all sorts of unkind thoughts toward Bastien.

My room was not what humans would call a room, but I didn't know what else to call it. It was a small chamber off from Queen Flore's own quarters, and just my size with a bed and washbasin and everything else a girl could want. Some people out there that thought me nothing more than a novelty would consider the space cute. But it wasn't cute. It was refined and beautiful and of exquisite taste that even a monkey like me could appreciate. I curled up on my bed and sulked. Not pouted. Sulked. There is a huge difference between sulking and pouting.

I could not figure out what my problem was. I should have taken Bastien's reaction as pure Bastien. But it wasn't every day that a girl had a tiny fairy godmother show up and maybe I just wanted to be believed.

I don't know how long I stayed there. I had never been very good at tracking time and most of my mental energy was devoted to trying to decipher just why I was so angry. But at least I pushed myself away and hunted down Bastien and Queen Flore.

It was dusk. I must have been sulking for a long time. However, it did mean I had possibly missed a painful supper with Florine's presence.

Now Florine, there was an idiot.

As luck would have it, Queen Flore and Bastien were seeing off the little lovely lady off. I hopped onto Queen Flore's shoulder and whispered "She's gone?"

The Queen did not reply. She just increased her smile a bit and continued waving at the coach making its way down the road and out of the gate, hopefully for the last time. It was only when the coach had faded into the shadows that she spoke. "Yes, she's gone. And I doubt we'll be seeing her again." She glared at her son.

Bastien laughed. "You didn't like her, either."

Queen Flore paused to consider that. "You're right. I didn't. The girl was insipid. Ridiculously so. It was all I could do not to slap her."

One could always count on Queen Flore to be brutally honest.

"Just be grateful you missed most of her visit, Babiole," she continued as she picked up the hem of dress and turned back to the palace. "Where were you?"

My turn to glare at Bastien. "Bastien upset me."

He groaned and rolled his eyes. Someone he looked so much more immature now that some possible bride wasn't hanging around. I liked him like that. It made him seem closer to the age I felt. "You're not serious about that, are you?"

I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Manners, Babiole!" Queen Flore hissed, giving my tail a sharp tug. She may be brutally honest, but she was still bent on being proper and making me be proper.

"It's just Bastien," I said unapologetically.

"She made up a story about her fairy godmother."

Great. Even Queen Flore laughed. By this time we were at the doors and the poor guards were left to wonder just why Her Majesty was laughing. "A fairy godmother, Babiole? Really?"

I should have stayed to sulk.

"It's just that it's not like you to make up such things."

"Which is precisely why I laughed at her," said Bastien.

Queen Flore stopped in the hall to examine her face in a mirror. She was beautiful, always had been beautiful, always would be. I studied my own face. I looked… like me, like a monkey. Very cute.

"So I suppose I'm confused, then," she said as she fiddled with her hair. "Babiole, did you or did you not make up a fairy godmother."

"I did see her," I said stubbornly. "She was small and had weird wings and was annoying."

Queen Flore laughed again. "I see, then. How charming. Did she grant you a wish?"

"I don't want a wish from some flying little person. And… and maybe I was seeing things."

"You're so practical," Bastien said. "It's annoying. I could have made up a much better story about a fairy godmother. She would be tall and gorgeous…"

He was going to start drooling soon, I was sure of it. I could only imagine the fairy godmother beauty he was making up in his weird mind.

"I could beat you," I said. I sprung from Queen Flore to his shoulder. "All right, I'm changing my story. She was a mercenary, hired to kill that Florine girl. She was dressed entirely in black and her stupid fairy wings were covered in blood. And they were spiky and sharp. Amazing."

"Was she still so beautiful?"

"Hideous." This was making me feel much better.

"As bad as Florine?"

"Be kind, Bastien!" his mother warned. "I'm going to bed. I hate entertaining."

"Looks like it's just you and me," I said gleefully. "By the way, I thought Florine was very pretty. You like pretty girls, don't you?"

"I already told you. She was awful." He began to walk toward his own room. "I can't believe you think I would be so shallow." His gaze lingered on a passing laundress by the name of Elle who returned his smile. Had they kissed in some closet? I was losing track of these girls.

"No, you're smart," I said. "You're just unlucky. It's your mother. It's your mother who keeps finding all these ridiculous girls for you."

"Then you should talk to her! She loves you! Seek ones I would approve of!"

"Easier said than done. They look so smart and intelligent when people speak of them. Words are terrible. So easily abused."

"Here, here." Bastien pushed open the door to his room. It was full of books and swords and all other sorts of boy things Queen Flore had allowed him to keep in there. Actually, I didn't know if she had, but she obviously didn't care.

I jumped onto the bed, tail curled around my feet. "So how was the luncheon?"

"I think she grew up in poverty. She thought everything was delicious. I think she eventually insulted the cook with insincerity. Abuse of words, just like you said."

"And what happened after that?"

Bastien laughed and collapsed onto the bed next to me. "Tennis. We played tennis."

"But you like tennis."

"I love tennis. She's never played."

"I thought everyone played tennis." I had attempted once, with a racket made for my size, but finding a partner had proved difficult.

"Not her. She apparently watches other people play."

"Nothing wrong with that. That's what I do."

Bastien was silent for a long time, his face holding back a broad smile. "You… didn't get a chance to see her before she left, did you?"

I shook my head.

"She won't be returning because she…. Sort of now has a black eye."

I gasped and punched my tiny fist into his arm. "You gave her a black eye?"

He sat up quickly, now laughing. "No! Nothing like that! She gave herself a black eye! I don't even know how she managed it. She was trying to serve and next thing I know she's on the ground screaming and clutching her eye."

"That's horrible!"

"I thought you didn't like her."

"Bastien, there's a big difference between not liking someone and wishing they were suffering in pain. Give me some credit."

"Well, I thought it was funny. I laughed. So I don't think she likes me anymore."

"Is that when she left?"

"No, that's when my mother insisted she have something to eat. By then she hated everything."

"That's because the poor girl had a black eye."

"Please, Babiole. You would have thrown a rock at her."

"That's different from laughing at an injury not my fault."

He laughed again. "I fail to see the difference. So are you still mad at me for laughing at you?"

I considered that. "No, I think I'm over that."

"You really didn't see a fairy, did you?"

I took a deep breath and considered it again. "No, I didn't. I made it up. I guess I was mad because I was hoping you would believe me and then I would never let you live that down."

"You are so weird sometimes."

"So are you."

"At least tell me what you thought of Florine. And remember, be honest."

Ooh, this would be fun. I twitched my tail, thinking of the best words to use. "She was extremely pretty, nice to look at, but lacking anything in the head. She thought I was some sort of pet. She lacked any sort of knowledge of anything. I'm sorry, Bastien, but at least all the servant girls can carry on a conversation. Most of them. You were very cutely paired with Florine, though. You looked great together."

"Thank-you. We should have had our portrait done before I shipped her off."

Eventually I left Bastien to do whatever boys did at night, in a much better mood. I guess monkeys were emotional, not that I knew anything about them. As it was, I was no longer mad Bastien and he was once again my best friend. I also had in mind to help his mother pick the worst possible girls for him. That would be a riot.

But it took a while longer than normal for me to fall asleep. Something didn't feel quite right. I couldn't decide what it was.

But something was wrong.


	4. In Which Babiole Realizes Something

Now if anyone walked up to me and asked "Babiole, what's wrong?" I doubt I would be able to do anything more than avoid eye contact and change the subject. I had no idea what was wrong with me. But ever since that night I knew something was different, that something had changed, that something was no longer the good old right way. Maybe the appearance of my so-called fairy godmother had twisted things up for me, but I doubted that because she barely made it into my thoughts over the next few years. What did make it into my thoughts was this gnawing eternal thought that my world was upside down.

I couldn't explain it. I just felt… different. My mind was different, my thoughts were different, and more so than ever I wanted nothing more than to run up a tree or palace pillar as fast as I could. But every time I gave into that desire I wanted to scream because it didn't do a thing to ebb away the urge. I must have been feeling something else. It was like some switch in my mind that had been there since birth switched on and I had no clue what the result was, only that there was a result.

The weirdest part was that I couldn't explain it to anyone. Not that I didn't try. Queen Flore just started into some horrible speech about changes all young women, and apparently monkeys, went through, about the hightened emotions and thoughts. I tried to listen and learn, but not all of it quite matched what I felt.

Bastien… he was useless. I could not even talk to him. To his credit, he tried to listen, but I could tell just how bored he quickly became before eventually sighing and asking if there were no one else to whom I could speak. Like his mother. He was too busy.

Indeed, the hunt for a suitable bride for Prince Bastien became more serious with each passing year. No longer was it about companions. Queen Flore would eventually be incapable of ruling and the kingdom would have to have a king and apparently a queen to match. The more trysts he had with half-way interesting servant girls the dumber the princesses and noblewomen who were trotted before him. They adored him. They were lovely and simpering and drove me nuts. In fact, the older I became, the more idiotic they became until it seemed that Bastien was passing the ideal age group of potential brides.

He needed someone intelligent. Bastien had an insurmountable number of flaws, but at least it was smart. He could carry on a half-decent conversation. He was a very good-looking human so it seemed only obvious that he marry a beautiful girl, but if quickly became bored of someone like me, it would have to be the right girl that he could be able to stand for a lifetime of marriage.

And so came the Challenges. That's what he called them. A notion from his stupid fairy tale books. In his stories, there was always a princess and the prince had to pull a ridiculous studnt to win her hand in marriage. Very romantic, very gag inducing. So Bastien's great plan was to drag all these girls on various activities to see who best enjoyed them and survived them.

I will admit, some of them were my ideas. Hunting. Spending a night in the woods (with me above throwing things). Dueling with swords. I thought they were funny, so imagine my horror when some of these girls actually met the Challenges.

And, well, Bastien sort of disappeared after that. It was always to do these Challenges. To be with people. As for me, I became bored with hiding and throwing things. Therefore, it was rare that I saw Bastien to even talk with him.

Maybe that made things worse for me.

I would be lying if I said I didn't miss him.

Every time I felt weird, that something was wrong, my thoughts turned to Bastien. And I would become absolutely furious that he had to do all these ridiculous things and ignore me. We had grown up together, as much as a small monkey could grow. When exactly was I supposed to voice my opinion on all these silly girls? When were we supposed to make fun of them? Why did days have to go by before I could jump onto his shoulder and tell him every little thing that I knew would annoy him?

Eventually, things followed these questions. I would stare into mirrors at my cute little furry face for what might have been hours at a time, not really thinking, just looking at myself.

Finally, one day I understood what was wrong, what had been driving me nuts for years. I wanted to scream when I realized it. Of all the things that could go wrong in my life it had to be this. I tried to find another explanation, but one did not exist. But one had to. Because this great and stupid epiphany was impossible, illogical, and useless. It couldn't happen.

I was a monkey. It was who I was. A talking monkey, to be sure, but a cute and charming and very small furry Capuchin monkey.

I could not be in love with Bastien.


	5. In Which Babiole Receives a Proposal

I just wasn't strong enough to break a mirror. Not even a little one. Now everyone would assume that even a little Capuchin would be capable of smashing a little glass, especially one as intelligent as I.

It doesn't work that way.

Though I was not ready to dismiss the idea that maybe having something hard in my hand would do the trick.

I just wanted the mirror gone. I hated it. I hated its dainty make and trimmed frame with all the stupid flowers. I hated Queen Flore for giving it to me, and it was difficult for me to hate Queen Flore. And I hated how my tiny paws did nothing against it except make it all messy, gross, and streaked.

I sighed a rather forced sigh and turned from the mirror. Logically, if it were making me that upset, I should just leave it alone and make the ladylike choice of distracting myself with something else. Like sewing. Or climbing a tree. But such choices felt like giving in, and I hated giving into anyone, especially inanimate objects.

I was sixteen years old. I should enjoy looking at myself in a mirror. I was, after all, a very pretty little monkey. Everyone said so.

I wanted to claw the eyes out of every idiot who said such a thing. And I wanted to claw out Bastien's eyes for never saying it.

I could barely remember the last time I had spoken to him.

Good. Think of Bastien. Turn all frustration to Bastien. He was an idiot prince boy who clearly did not have time for his best friend. The moron was too busy chasing skirts.

I scampered from my little chamber into Queen Flore's quarters. It was the mid-morning of a perfect spring day. I should be outside attacking that tree-climbing notion, but instead I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. Who cared about perfect springy sunshine days when I was miserable? I sure didn't. The sunlight that poured through Queen Flore's windows to set the room practically on fire did absolutely nothing to improve my mood.

She was in court. Of course she was in court. She as Queen, she had to act like it. A perfect queen she was, and I had no idea what Bastien was going to do when he was king. Be an idiot? Spend his life looking for the perfect queen all over again?

Maybe I should just be queen. Would that be such a bad idea? I had heard of kingdoms among animals, monkeys included. Humans weren't alone in that concept, humans had just happened to have perfected the kingdom concept. I had read all the books of human history I could get my paws on and sadly I had no respect for whatever my own species had to offer.

I really liked humans.

The halls of the palace were empty. Every available servant and courtier was probably outside enjoying the day. Curse them. No, take back the curses. I didn't care. In fact, it was better to be alone.

There was the general's daughter. A beautiful girl. A redhead with freckles. Adorable on every level. And witty. Very witty. I had observed them the day before. Out in the garden.

Bastien had failed to ask my opinion on her. I didn't know whether I would have given him good or bad.

I slunk into the library, as empty as any other room, and pulled out a book on the Roman Empire. I hated the Romans. I would just have to skip to the part where the Empire fell.

It was difficult for me to pull out books. Books were heavy, and I was used to having other people get them for me. Recent years had changed that, and I had managed to get to the point of holding my own when it came to hunting down books. Good ol' books.

Only I couldn't concentrate. The words and phrases ran together in repetation. I could not focus. I couldn't get the image of Bastien and the general's daughter out of my head.

How stupid could I be? Couldn't I force this away? Bastien was the biggest idiot in the kingdom, quite possibly the world. And he was a human.

Love was the worst thing ever. Every silly sonnet out there deserved to be burned.

I was just about to write my own gruesome version of Roman events when a servant finally appeared. She looked aggravated and amused at the same time.

"Babiole, the Queen summons you."

Queen Flore hadn't summoned me in days. I used every ounce of my little body to shut the book. "In court?"

The servant girl nodded. I couldn't remember her name. Bastien probably would. Then a small but excited smile swept over her face. "It's vital you come soon."

It was good to be wanted, even if it were only by Queen Flore.

As I approached the throne room the reason for the low population in the hall was not the irritatingly beautiful day. Everyone possible was in court even if they really didn't belong there.

And I quickly found out I had missed the beginning of the major excitement of the day.

I should have suspected by the noise I heard. Not just humans. Animals. A total menagerie, and not a nice one. Noise, noise, noise. What traveling ambassador had decided to impress Queen Flore with animals? Did they not know she had me? The incredible talking monkey girl?

The room was filled with animals. The ones that first caught my eye were the monkeys. There were no Capuchins like me. All were Old World. I was glad I had researched monkeys over the years. I didn't like them. I knew that right away. They were weird and low and so… uncivilized. For the first time I was truly grateful of all that Queen Flore had ever done for me. In accompaniment of the monkeys were birds. Brightly colored parrots and storks and incredible beauties I didn't recognize. And a panther. No, make that four panthers. Why were panthers in court?

I hung in the doorway, trying my best to keep my mouth from dropping open.

"Babiole!" Queen Flore exclaimed as she quickly walked toward me.

Oh dear. She was smiling. Not the normal smile she had when she wanted to show me off. Another kind of smile. One I had never seen before. It lit up her face, which held a mood that was at once comforting and terrifying.

Something was going on.

She bent down, and I scrambled up onto her shoulder. "What's going on? This place is a zoo."

"Animal-kind," she replied gently, almost in a whisper.

"Who brought them?"

"Sent them is more the correct term." She beamed at the animals around her. They seemed to regard her with all the respect due to a queen. They couldn't be that bad.

Shouldn't I be feeling more respect and affinity toward them? Yet all I could do was stare. I wanted them gone.

"They're actually here in representation of a king."

What sort of king sent animals to represent him? I frowned. "So… why I am here?" I didn't mean to be rude, but I was terribly uncomfortable.

Queen Flore's smile was so big it could have ripped right off of her face. She looked at me with more love than I had ever seen from her before. "You're the reason these animals are here."

I stared at them. They stared at me. Then, they actually bowed.

"What's going on?" I whispered.

"The king they represent," Queen Flore said, "Is the King of Monkeys."

I closed my eyes.

"He has heard of you. He has asked me for your hand in marriage, and I think this is a wonderful opportunity for you."


	6. In Which Babiole Considers Things

Now closing the eyes was a technique that according to theory should have improved my hearing, but clearly I had not heard correctly what the Queen had just said. It was gibberish. There was something about a king of monkeys and she thinking I should marry him. And there were animals. The entire room was filled with noisy and garish animals. I open my eyes and stared at her. She was thrilled. Ecstatic with this situation.

I took a deep breath that pushed out every one of my ribs and demanded "What?"

"You've been offered an opportunity of marriage, my dear," Queen Flore replied as she smoothed the fur atop my head. "With a king!"

No. Kings did not rule over animals. At least, they shouldn't. Animals had no clue what they were doing government-wise. It was unrealistic. Kings did not send a bunch of animals to court ladies. I felt sick. My paws dug into Queen Flore's shoulder. "When did they get here?"

"About an hour ago." She was utterly jubilant. "Have you ever heard of such a thing? Look at this! The entire kingdom was abuzz with it, I can't believe you didn't hear a thing. Where were you?"

I wasn't sure if I dared voice the activity of trying to break a mirror. Seven years bad luck and all of that. Though with this site I must have broken something. I cleared my throat. "May I speak with you?"

The inane excitement on her face morphed into something more recognizable as tact, and she nodded. "Of course. How silly of me. We'll speak outside."

"That won't… scare them or concern them?" I shifted my gaze to the animals. Animals. Was I really one of them? My heart pounded hard at the thought. Though what else was I? Of course I was an animal. Who spoke perfect human.

"Good point." Queen Flore folded her hands at her chest, ever so the incredible queen she had always been. "Attention! Please, relax here, but I must beg your forgiveness as I discuss the proposal with Babiole."

Every pair of monkey eyes turned to me, and the monkeys smiled. It unnerved me. Monkeys. Just like me.

"Do they have any idea what you just said?" I whispered. I had no idea how it worked with my own kind.

She shrugged. "I'm relying on the parrots to do the translating. They're the ones that translated for the monkeys, at any rate." She beamed her brightest smile and swept into a low curtsey as the parrots chattered something to the monkeys.

Monkey speech. Was I supposed to know this? 

We were just leaving the noisy courtroom into the much more placid hall when it hit me that I knew next to nothing about monkeys. Which made no sense. I was, after all, a monkey. I had paws and a tail and a pretty little furry face. I was a monkey. That's how it was. And had I not read everything I could get my paws upon about monkeys? Did I not know their biology and ecology?

Mere trivia. I had never lived among them. Neither had the scholarly idiots who had written those books. They had merely observed them for a little while. None of them knew the language, the monkey culture, the apparent monkey kingdom, and therefore neither did I.

The King of Monkeys wanted to marry me. Who was the King of Monkeys? I had no idea!

"I'm sorry to spring that all upon you, Babiole," Queen Flore told me as soon as the door was shut. "There went all my manners. Me not even calling you in time. Presenting you with one of the most important moments of your life in such a casual fashion. Someone should have slapped me. I was insensitive."

"You're telling me," I muttered. "I feel sick!"

"That's to be expected. I had multiple proposals before accepting Bastien's father. It really affects you."

I had one proposal. My very first. I nodded. "Oh. So this is normal?"

"Please don't be sick on the palace floor," she said with a laugh.

"I'm just not very sure what's going on here." I felt like scampering down and running around the floor, but I couldn't move from the Queen's shoulder.

Queen Flore's eyes turned to the door as if she were looking through it. "His name is King Magot."

"What kind of name is that?"

"I don't know, it's what the parrots repeated. I don't trust parrots. Maybe something was lost in translation name-wise."

I wrapped my tail around me and shuddered. "If you don't trust the parrots how do you know some monkey named King Magot wants to marry me?"

"Because no parrot would make up that phrase. Besides, they brought you gifts."

Against my sanity my interest was piqued. "Really? What kind of gifts?"

"The usual. That is, when courting a young lady of a noble station. With a monkey twist. Lots of fruit. Jewelry. Pretty rocks. Flowers. Trinkets like that. They're really quite lovely. You should be flattered."

"I am flattered," I said slowly. "I just… he wants to marry me?"

She nodded, her eyes once again sparkling. "Would you marry him?"

"I…" How was I supposed to respond? I was in love with Bastien, which was a problem considering the difference between our species, so that was something that was never going to happen. But this? This was completely out of the blue. "I… is he here?"

"No. From what I gleaned, he was married to some other monkey who was killed several years ago. He sent his ambassadors instead."

"Monkeys have ambassadors." I had to be dreaming. "What do you think?"

She plucked me off her shoulder with her free arm and hugged me to her chest. "I stand by what I first said. This is a wonderful opportunity for you. Even if you don't accept, I'm thrilled you have this proposal. It's so exciting. I couldn't be more excited if this had happened to a daughter I don't have. I…" She wiped a tear from her eyes. "I'm so happy for you. It's your choice."

"But you're the Queen," I said dumbly. "I'm…" I was what? The pet monkey? I had never felt that way, but I wasn't sure what else I was.

"Babiole, I can't instruct you in this! It's not like they asked me to sell you off. The proposal for you, not me!"

"I can't see you marrying a monkey," I said with a soft laugh.

"No. But maybe you."

I nodded. It was a lot to take in. "Can… we go back in there?"

I almost regretted returning to the animal-filled room. They all just watched me with freakish adoration and I had to wonder what the last monkey queen had been like. Now I as a Capuchin was rather exotic. My tail was more useful than theirs. Not that the monkeys before me were ugly. They were monkeys, all clean and handsome, and I had to admit the birds and panthers and the rest of the zoo before me made for an interesting and exciting image.

Monkeys. These were my people. My animal-people. Whatever the term would be. I was one of them.

But as I looked at them, I felt nothing. No disgust, no opposition, but no affection, either. I did not feel like one of them. It was a strange sensation. Had I been around humans that long? Was I that removed from my monkey heritage? Part of me just wanted to stay here with Queen Flore and Bastien.

And what? Entertain guests and fret over Bastien's many love affairs? Now this, this was exciting. Joining the monkeys. Becoming a queen. I had just barely thought earlier I should be a queen. Maybe I would grow to love monkeys. I was one of them, wasn't I?

Something didn't feel right. I hopped from Queen Flore's arms to a chair.

Immediately a bright orange parrot flew up to me. "A message!" it squawked.

I was talking to a parrot.

A monkey followed the parrot, holding a little jade box, which he extended to me with a bow.

I took the box. It was beautiful.

"A gift," continued the parrot in a flat and ridiculous voice, "from King Magot, in praise of her beauty and talents. Your fame has traveled far."

Yeah, it had reached the animal kingdoms. I fiddled with the latch, but it was too complex even for me.

"This box comes from a fairy. It's very rare."

"I am afraid I have not yet made up my mind!" I said, handing the box back.

But the monkey shook his head.

"Gift," repeated the parrot. "No matter what."

"Gift," I echoed. It was a very pretty box. If King Magot had things like this, he certainly couldn't be bad at all.

The monkey chattered something to the parrot. I was horrified to discover I had no idea what he was saying. I didn't know if I were supposed to automatically understand monkey speech or not."

"Mirlifiche has others gifts," said the parrot. "He can go get them, if you wish."

Other gifts. How rich was King Magot? And how shallow was I? My heart was pounding up a storm, I still felt sick, and I couldn't just accept a proposal based on a few presents and the fact I was the same animal. Could I?

No matter how much sense it made. And I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited and even impressed by all this. It was nice, after the shock was gone.

"I can't," I said. "Not right now."

The parrot and the monkey I assumed to be Mirlifiche nodded. Polite bunch. That was good.

Animals were easy to keep in a palace. Finding quarters for them was simple. Queen Flore assured me I could take all the time I needed, no pressure from her. It was my choice and my choice alone.

What would it mean if I accepted the proposal? I knew next to nothing about marriage, especially to a monkey.

But the monkey thing was something that continually brought itself back. I was a monkey, at least in body, and King Magot was a monkey. A very wealthy monkey. With talking parrots.

I wouldn't be able to hold a conversation with my own husband without a parrot. But maybe I could learn the language of monkeys. It was a horror I didn't already know it.

I guess I just felt closer to humans.

But staying here in the palace meant doing what I had been doing. Amusing people. Reading. Bothering people. It also meant my silly affection for Bastien.

Bastien. Stupid, stupid Bastien. I wanted him out of my head.

I saw him at supper. Apparently the news of my proposal had reached him because he couldn't look at me without laughing.

"Be nice," his mother hissed. "This is for someone incapable of proposing."

That shut Bastien up. For the moment.

But after a few bites he was back on it, his eyes sparking at me. He was very handsome. "So when can we expect to dance at your wedding? Or swinging? Will it be in the trees?"

I wanted to fling something at him.

"One of us must get married first," he continued. "Why not you?"

"Don't pressure her," Queen Flore warned.

"I'm not, Mother, I'm asking her a question." He grinned. "A monkey king! You marrying a king. You can't get much better than that."

He was right. Few things were higher than a king. If I were to marry a monkey, which would be expected for my species, why not a king since one was offering? All I had to do was agree or disagree and throw in a few solid reasons for my choice.

Nice and logical.

I did not.

Instead, I opened my big fat mouth and said "I could marry you."

Both Bastien and the Queen went silent.

I needed to save it.

But it didn't saving. Queen Flore smiled after a moment and Bastien burst out laughing. "You're hilarious. I had forgotten how many you are."

"I'm known for my wit," I said dryly. I wasn't being funny. I had been serious. That was the most serious thing to come out of my mouth, as dumb as it was.

"Yes, you are," Queen Flore said. She wasn't laughing, just smiling, and there were something in her eyes as she looked at me…

She knew.

I felt dizzy. But I had to continue this. Make it seem like I had been joking. So I winked at Bastien. "Just think about it. We are matched perfectly."

He was still laughing, and that made it worse. "Hardly! Have you looked in a mirror?"

I couldn't fake a smile from there. Of course I had looked in a mirror. I had that morning. What was he trying to say ?

He gasped for breath and settled back into his chair.

Why did I love him again?

"Babiole," he said breathlessly, "If you accept this proposal, I am going to miss you."

My heart skipped a beat.

"But if you accept it, send me your first baby monkey, for old time's sake."

"Bastien," Queen Flore said sharply.

She should have been speaking to me, for I picked up one of the tiny forks that had been made especially for me and threw it at Bastien. Then I darted out into the hall.

Queen Flore was not far behind me, and it was only her long strides that caught up to me. "Babiole, what was that?"

I wasn't in tear until she spoke. "Nothing."

She towered above me, arms crossed, face worried. "You love Bastien." She wasn't accusing, not terrified. She was merely commenting.

I refused to nod.

She sighed. "I should have expected as much. I'm sorry I was so excited about this. You probably want to stay here."

Stay here and do what? Maybe she didn't get it. What I had spoken was true, truer than I had imagined. I wanted to be Bastien's wife. But that was impossible.

"No, I don't," I said.

"Babiole." She scooped me up into her arms.

"I want to visit, of course," I said. "As often as I can. I don't want to forget you."

She gasped, and the excitement of before returned to her face. "Babiole, my darling, are you…"

I nodded. "Yes." My mind was made up. Bastien's words had made it up for me. "I'm accepting the proposal."


	7. In Which Babiole Meets a Monkey Princess

Bastien's reaction was worth everything. His jaw dropped in the classic fashion, and something I was certain was akin to horror passed through his eyes. Gleefully I kept myself from laughing, though it was the one thing holding back the sheer terror that I now felt. Queen Flore clapped her hands together and gave a joyful cry.

"You truly are accepting?"

I nodded and flicked my tail, trying to seem like it was nothing, no big deal, just a minor little event on the calendar of my life. Just a wedding. No big deal.

"Can monkeys even get married?" Bastien asked in a voice that match the stunned look on his face. He sounded like he had as a child, confused and curious.

"Obviously," I snapped. I hadn't known the truth of that until hours ago when a monkey proposed to me, but if monkeys could have kingdoms they could also have other civilities such as marriage. "And I am going to marry a monkey. It's happening."

His face twisted in what seemed to be half-laugh, half-cry. "So… really, then? You're accepting this proposal?"

Queen Flore gave a thrilled sniffle and wiped her eyes. She was excited for me. Who would have thought?

I nodded again. "Did you not see what he sent? All those animals! It's completely and utterly royal." I guess it was, but I was not about to share with Bastien my ambiguity on this. It seemed only right. I was a monkey, so was this King with the horrible name of Magot, and Mirlifiche seemed charming and respectable enough, not to mention the so-far-nameless parrot. Goodness, I was going to have to learn the names of everyone at this animal court. That was, as soon as I learned to speak like an animal.

What was I doing? What was I getting myself into?

But still, I loved the expression on Bastien's face. It was priceless and perfect. My little revenge of something that probably did not require revenge, but who cared? It wasn't just to upset him, it was for me. What was the point of hanging around a human I loved?

Queen Flore finally got a hold on herself. "I… I shall inform our guests of the good news."

"Why weren't they invited to dinner?" Bastien asked in the same stunned voice.

I managed a laugh. "Because they are animals."

"Oh," he responded, oblivious to the fact one was right across the table from him.

I was really going to miss him.

But he didn't care about me, and I couldn't handle that.

* * *

Preparing to leave was not as glamorous as one might expect; of course, I was just a monkey. I had more nice things than I imagine any monkey in the world as a result of being dressed as a veritable princess all my life, but the outfits were small and, as it turned out, one of the four elephants sent by King Magot was more than capable of carrying everything I had.

Saying goodbye was the worst part. It wasn't that I did not intend to visit, for I did. But as Queen Flore hugged me I felt my heart would burst. I had no idea it was possible to miss her so much, and for the briefest moment I was struck by the idea of "mother". But that was a silly thing to think.

"You'll be a beautiful bride," she said over and over. "The most beautiful there ever was, monkey or human. If there is anyone capable of producing a portrait, you must send me one."

"Of course," I promised her.

"And…" Her eyes shone with tears. "And please remember how much I love you, Babiole. Finding you was one of the best things that ever happened to me. To us."

She was telling the truth. Of course she loved me. She had always loved me. "I love you, too."

Saying goodbye to Bastien was different. I didn't know what to say, and apparently neither did he. It had been so long since we had been close friends. Even so, I wrapped my arms around his neck. His pulse was quick.

"Take care," he finally said. "I'm sorry I teased you."

I wanted to say how much I loved him, but that would defeat the entire purpose of me leaving.

One of the elephants pulled a carriage. Nothing particularly fancy, but neat just the same. Built skimble-skamble of things that must have been pulled from the forest. Mirlifiche helped me inside, where awaited another monkey, female.

I looked one last time at my human family, blew Queen Flore a kiss, and the carriage was off.

It seemed an eternity to pass through the trees Queen Flore loved so much, and I couldn't help but imagine that I saw the face of Bastien several times as we passed.

It was the most awkward carriage I had ever been inside. I kept my paws in my lap, my tail curled demurely around me, and my eyes low. Mirlifiche and the girl monkey didn't even speak in that weird monkey chatter. I so wished the parrot had joined us.

After about an hour or so, the girl monkey looked at me and smiled shyly, and I realized she had probably been wanting to talk to me the entire time.

"Hello," I said softly.

She chattered something quick back to me.

I don't know what it was that specifically hit me about that response, but I suddenly realized I had absolutely nothing other than my body to do with monkeys. I could not even guess what she was thinking. Mirlifiche seemed perfectly content to stare out the window and pick at his fur.

What was King Magot going to be like?

I was going to marry a monkey. I didn't know a single thing about monkeys.

I took a deep breath and held it until I could feel my body cooling. It was all right. It was going to be all right. I was just going to have to learn about monkeys. I had been raised by humans, lived with humans, it was high time I learned about my own people.

Bastien crossed my mind, and I pushed him away. Being in love with a human… that was not right. It was impossible to persue. It would be better for me if I married one of my own kind. I had been a palace pet far too long.

The girl monkey gave a warmer monkey smile.

I had to try something. I would need a friend, even if we couldn't communicate. Putting my paws to my chest I said "Babiole."

A light went on in her eyes, and she put her own paws to herself and chattered something.

Well, it was a start. I smiled and nodded. Now what? A bag of some of the smaller gifts was with me, so I pulled it out. Maybe I could show her some things. Monkeys liked things, didn't they? I pulled out a couple of orange and tossed one to her. She seemed pleased, and daintily bit into it. From what I understood of monkeys was that they were messy, but this one seemed more or less civilized. Perhaps part of being in a monkey royal court?

Next I showed her some beaded necklaces and some of the more interesting rocks. She seemed happily impressed with all of them, though I also got the feeling she had seen them all before, probably had helped select them.

The last thing I pulled out was the jade box.

The girl monkey went into fits of delight at that, to the point of jumping up and down on her seat and shrieking something so loudly that Mirlifiche gave us his attention. Even he liked the look of the box, and he had presented it to me. He watched me closely as I played with the latch, trying to open it. At last he gave me a knowing look and said a rather short phrase that I supposed was the unintelligible answer to my confusion.

It was strange to feel like such an idiot in front of them. I wondered what they thought of me. Did they think I was a spoiled palace brat? I decided to do better and think highly of them. They were more than strange creatures to me, they were noble animals and I should be proud to be one of them.

Embarrassed, I set the box down.

"You must be bored," said a voice, and the same parrot who had spoken to me earlier fluttered into the carriage through the window.

"Someone who understands me," I said with a happy sigh. "I mean, I'm happy to be here and—"

"Of course," said the parrot. "You look very happy. You are among good people. You've met Mirlifiche. This is, in the human tongue, Princess Gigona. Your new stepdaughter."

Much nicer than the monkey version of her name, though I wasn't sure how I felt about having a stepdaughter. Still, she seemed nice. The daughter of my future husband. I smiled even more broadly at her, which she seemed to appreciate.

"Her mother was Queen Monette. She was the most beautiful monkey in the land, though you might take that place. She was killed several years ago. It was heartbreaking for the King and the Princess."

I nodded in sympathy. Of course.

"But Princess Gigona is thrilled to have you around."

Gigona nodded fervently.

I was welcome, apparently. I still had no idea what I was supposed to do among monkeys.

The rest of the day passed slowly. I tried to make conversation with the parrot, but to my fault I couldn't think of much to say, and Gigona seemed content watching me. She was a very pretty little monkey, I had to admit. Was I supposed to feel any affection for her?

I was barely nodding off to sleep when shouts outside jarred me. The parrot flew from the carriage, which had come to a halt, but returned shortly. He jabbered something to Mirlifiche, but then turned to me.

"We've strayed into the territory of King Achille."

The name did not ring a bell with me. I stared.

"He hates the monkey kingdom. He wants it gone."

Princess Gigona was already shoving me out the door. I resisted and demanded of the parrot "We're leaving?"

"Hiding," he replied. "You can hide outside until the parrots have met with the soldiers. We'll do our best, but for your safety and the Princess', we can't have you in the carriage. It's the first place they'll look."

That made sense.

The sun was setting. We were in a field next to a tree-lined river. The sky was ablaze, but the soldiers around looked fierce. I clutched my bag of things and followed Mirlifiche and Gigona to the river. The trees were thick there. We were safe.

At least there was no fighting, none that I could hear. Was I supposed to be comforting my stepdaughter?

I turned to her.

Everything happened slowly.

Mirlifiche stood far off, watching up the bank. But Gigona's face was right in mine. Smiling, but no longer a kind smile.

I gasped.

That was when she pushed me. Hard.

I tumbled back, unable to reach for balance. I hit the freezing water.

It moved too fast for me to swim.


	8. In Which Babiole Doesn't Drown

I sunk. A little monkey like me, sinking. Absurd, yes. But the water pulled me under. I gasped for what breath I could manage as rushing blue darkness surrounded me.

I was going to drown. My nasty little future stepdaughter had pushed me into a river, and now I was going to drown. Amazing how I took the statement as sensible fact. There was a little anger, and definitely some fear; but mostly what I felt was a strange fascination at my situation. Drowning. I had not seen that one coming.

Drowning was a slow process. I didn't feel any different, though memories of my childhood flashed through my head. I expected more pain, especially on the lungs, but it never happened.

I don't know how long I had been sitting at the bottom of the river when I realized I was breathing just fine. I even performed a few deep breaths to test it. I could feel water moving in through my mouth, but it went no further. I whipped my tail around. Definitely water. All around me was water. In the distance I could see the shadows of the riverbank. Plants danced around me, sweeping back with the current. Above was the distant spot of sun and the faster-moving water. Below me were the mossy rocks of the river bottom.

Was I dead? I clutched my bag close to me, wondering how I had it when supposedly one couldn't take anything to the Great Beyond. Death was not what I had expected.

As I tried to decide what to do next, several fish appeared. They did not look particularly extraordinary, save for size, perhaps. What caught my attention was the way they looked at me, turning their round eyes to stare at me in utter acceptance, as if I were supposed to be here. I squeezed my bag tighter to my chest and stared back at them.

At last, the largest swam toward me. I had no idea what kind of fish he was even though I had once read a book on the different species of fish. This one seemed all species and yet none at the same time, without a single feature that connected him to one more than the other. His scales were silver, yet when he moved other colors gleamed for the briefest of moments.

I felt the oddest urge to curtsey.

"Tell me, are you all right?" the fish asked.

I nearly nodded, but such a motion didn't seem enough. "Yes," I replied. "Thank-you." Was I okay? I had been shoved into a river. "At least, I think I am. Am I…?"

"Dead?" The fish laughed, and it was very odd to see a fish laugh. "No, I can promise you that. I'm sure you're wondering about breathing. Most of you land creatures do worry about that, failing to realize there is plenty of oxygen in the water."

I had no response to that, though it was good not to be dead.

"You fell into my realm, my dear monkey. I'm not so cruel as some might think."

"Your realm?" I echoed.

The other fish smiled, another odd thing to see, and the fish gave a bow, as much as a fish could. "I am Biroquoi, King of Fish."

I should have realized I was speaking to a fish. Immediately I gave my curtsey. "I am Babiole. I'm honored." Thank-you Queen Flore for teaching me manors. "Thank-you."

"I know who you are."

"You do?"

"The Bride of King Magot. Word travels among the royals, you realize."

"Of course," I said softly. "Only… his daughter pushed me into the river."

"Gigona." He gave another laugh. "I've heard of her as well. The Monkey Princess. Difficult to deal with. Do you wish to really live a life with her?"

Not now. "No."

Biroquoi circled me, always keeping his round eyes on me. "Though King Magot is a fine king and a fine ape, though I don't have much patience for mammals. He would be a good husband for you. You could do worse. Much worse. Though… I can tell you're rather neutral on this marriage. You haven't met him, which could be part of love. But I suspect something else."

My breath caught. I might as well have been drowning.

"You love another, Babiole. Don't you?"

How did he know so much?

As if in response to my thoughts, he said "Water travels far. I know things. You love a prince. Prince Bastien."

"He doesn't care about me," I said miserably. It was nice to have someone to talk to about this.

Biroquoi nodded. "He's rather indifferent to affection to love, isn't he? But don't fear, that will change. I've seen his destiny, and it is that he will marry a beautiful princess." 

"He's a prince. It's a rather obvious prediction." I bit my tongue. "I'm sorry. I was outspoken."

"Don't apologize. I like a girl who speaks her mind. Though I suppose you would like it if I helped you to dry land. Don't worry, I can make sure you avoid Gigona. The entire monkey convoy, if you wish." He turned to his attending fish. "See that you take the lady monkey to shore."

Immediately they dove under my arms and lifted me.

"But first…" Biroquoi eyed my bag. "May I see what you have in there? Gifts from Magot, I assume?"

I opened the bag for his inspection.

"A lovely box," he said thoughtfully. "You would be more than honored by that gift if you knew how precious it was. King Magot was very kind in offering it to you. Keep track of it, it will be of use to you."

"Use?"

He smiled and met my eyes. "You'll know. When all seems hopeless, open it. Break it, if you must. You'll know when the time is right."

Suddenly I rather feared the box.

"And one more thing," he said, swimming to a plant. "A gift from me." He plucked a leaf from the plant and swam back to me. I took it. "Eat it. It will help you if you decided to marry King Magot. It will be useful no matter what you do, in fact. It's the power of speech. You'll be able to speak to any creature."

Wow. I swallowed the leaf. It tasted sweet.

"Farewell, Babiole," King Biroquoi said with a fishy bow. "May all be well for you. Just protect that box."

And with that, the other fish swept me up through the water, and the momens later I was laying in the grass, coughing and soaking wet.


	9. In Which Babiole Eavesdrops

As soon as I had coughed up enough water to manage looking around I realized I had no idea where I was. Not an uncommon thing considering I had never left Queen Flore's palace before, but it was nothing I recognized from our depart from the carriage. Beyond the grass lay a road, well-traveled by the looks of it though I didn't recognize any of the trees around it. At least the troop of monkeys were nowhere in sight, though with the sun having already set it was difficult to be sure of anything. Had that brat Gigona been punished? Mirlifiche had seemed to hold nothing against me. I rose to my hind feet and shook the water from my fur. I was a soaking mess, and I felt more like a dog than a monkey and especially a bride-to-be.

Though that whole bride thing did not seem currently in the picture. The river must have brought me further down from the monkey assembly.

I took a moment to wring the remaining water from my tail, and another to dump river water from my bag. The little jade box caught my eye. What about it had impressed Biroquoi so much? It was a beautiful box. I held it up to examine it better. It was beautiful. And apparently opening it was a serious matter. Ridiculous. It sounded like something that Bastien would believe in. Even so , and maybe even in thought Bastien, I let the box fall back into the bag.

It was not good to be still damp in the darkness. I began to shiver. What was the point of having fur if it couldn't even keep me warm? I moved slowly up the road, trying to decided just what I needed to do now. It was dark, it was cold, and I had absolutely no idea where I was. And Biroquoi had decided to send me here? Well, he was a fish, after all; he wouldn't know the details of the roadside. Running back to Queen Flore seemed impossible, and even if I could find the palace I knew I couldn't face Bastien. How silly. After a monkey princess tried to kill me, all I could think about was Bastien.

So what options were left to me? Certainly Mirlifiche was looking for me. I really hoped he had strung Gigona up by her furry little neck. That ape seemed to be the only responsible one of the bunch. Should I sit and wait for him to find me? Did monkeys travel in the dark?

I just didn't care. I wound up doing what I was good at. I climbed a tree, curled up on a limb, and eventually fell asleep.

* * *

"Grab it!"

I was jarred awake by someone rudely grabbing my tail and yanking me straight off the branch. My paws tried to grip the branch again, but whoever it was really had some strength. In seconds of waking up I found myself held tight in the arms of a soldier.

"Another one," a man's deep voice said from behind us. "And here we had thought we had driven out the last of them."

"Put me down!" I shrieked. Never in my life had anyone handled me like an… animal. I twisted in the soldier's arms, but he held his grip even as I felt him jolt. My bag had fallen to the ground.

"It talks."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Yes, I talk. Have you not heard of me? Babiole, from the court of Queen Flore."

"So she's not part of that monkey army," another voice said. A total of four soldiers had been sent to fetch me. Or look for monkeys. Which included me.

"Still up to monkey business," my captor said, with his fellows laughing at him. Oh, what a joke. Haha.

"Queen Flore's court monkey," a man said thoughtfully. "Yes, very famous little living trinket. Speaks like anything. Clearly. I doubt Queen Cerise will care."

My captor stared down at me. I met his eyes with as much bravery as I could summon. He didn't seem to be considering hurting me, and as it was I had been taught not to back down to anyone. My station was at least that of a guard and if it wasn't he did not need to know that.

"If this is indeed the pet of Queen Flore, Queen Cerise would not be interested in starting a fight."

"Over what, sir?" I demanded.

All four guards reacted well enough, startled to the point that one answered my question. "Our beloved Queen despises monkeys."

That was the silliest thing I had never heard. Who hated monkeys that much? "She sends soldiers after them?"

"This is the country of King Achille, her husband. Our orders are to drive out or kill every monkey that enters the kingdom."

King Achille. So the river hadn't carried me far enough. I closed my eyes for a moment. "Kill? You are going to kill Queen Flore's talking monkey?" I hoped beyond hope that I was making them realize just how special I was.

My captor sighed. "You will be brought to Queen Cerise. Your fate will be decided then."

It was something. Better than being killed. Perhaps even better than being driven out. This Queen Cerise was royalty, and I knew royalty. They were reasonable. It came with ruling a country. Unless King Achille did all the ruling and Queen Cerise was the spoiled wife who always got her way. Still, I would be positive. I would be a lady, and would not bite or claw the man holding me. With any luck, I could convince the Queen to return me home. I nodded with as much grace as I could manage. "All right. Take me to Queen Cerise."

They all seemed a little surprised at being commanded by a monkey. Queen Flore had taught me too well.

"Prepare the cage," my captor said.

"No!" I exclaimed. I had never ever been put inside a cage and I had no desire to start. "You will carry me. I am not an ordinary monkey!"

I was just as surprised as they must have been when they nodded.

Being carried by a foursome of guards was one of the weirdest things I had ever done. I felt something like a prisoner, but not quite. It was… unusual, to say the least. I felt like a baby, especially when my captor climbed onto his horse and started off. He always kept a firm grip on me, and I was bitter to realize escape was not going to happen.

At least we arrived at the palace of King Achille. It lacked the trees of Queen Flore's palace, but instead boasted a clean field of grass. The palace itself was stunning, gleaming yellow in the morning sun. The stone was beautiful. Yes, I was impressed by the stone. The guards lost no time in requesting the Queen's time, and within minutes of arrival I found myself in the courtroom, still in the arms of the same guard, comparing the décor with Queen Flore's. I had to say, the King and Queen of this country had good taste. Lots of plants. I liked it.

I would like it better if I got to go home.

At last a woman entered. Queen Cerise. It could be no one but, and the moment she entered the room all I could do was stare at her.

She was beautiful. There was no doubt about that. She was small for a human, probably not even five feet and quite lean, but had the presence that made her seem larger and stronger. A golden tiara was set on unbound black hair that fell to her waist. Her skin was pale, her eyes bright blue. But her beauty wasn't why I stared. There was something else about her, something completely intangible. Suddenly the fear of what would happen to me vanished.

Those bright blue eyes fell right on me, and widened in a mix of fear and anger as her mouth bent down. "What is this?"

"A monkey," said my captor.

"I know it's a monkey!" snapped Queen Cerise. "What it is it doing here? You had reported that you had driven those monkeys out."

"We found one more, my Queen. She is from the court of Queen Flore."

Queen Cerise's face paled even more. "Oh." She paused. "What is she doing here?"

Such a long story.

Queen Cerise dropped into her throne. "I had heard of Queen Flore's monkey. You talk, don't you? She had often invited me to see you."

And I had never heard of this woman. I took a deep breath. "Your Majesty, may I speak?"

"You do talk." Queen Cerise put a hand to her heart. "I… Forgive me, Babiole. But I'm infamous for my distaste for your kind. But since you speak, I have… difficulty seeing you as a monkey. Yes. Yes, what was I saying? You have my permission to speak?"

I glared at my captor.

"Put the monkey down," the Queen commanded.

The guard put me down.

I felt more comfortable on the floor. No longer being held was like freedom. I remembered my manners and curtsied. "The monkeys you drove from your kingdom, Queen Cerise, were my escorts. I am to marry the Monkey King Magot, but your soldiers attacked us and I… I wound up in the river. I spent the night in the tree, only to have your guards unceremoniously snatch me from it this morning. Queen Flore had given the monkeys her blessing. I apologize on behalf of everyone for disturbing your kingdom."

Queen Cerise's eyes flashed. "You shouldn't have come through."

"I had no choice, Your Majesty. I had no idea of your feelings."

"I hate monkeys. I hate your kind."

I couldn't decide if I liked her or hated her, but I did like how she spoke and there was a part of me desperate to like her. And that same part was desperate that she liked me. I lowered my eyes demurely. "There's nothing I can do. I am what I am."

"A talking monkey," she said softly. "Amazing. Babiole, I say what I say because it's the truth. But you intrigue me. You speak. I have never known a monkey to speak. What is your history?"

"There isn't much to tell, I'm afraid. Queen Flore was traveling about sixteen years ago, and came across some men trying to drown a baby monkey. Myself. So she took me home, and I have lived with her until yesterday."

Queen Cerise gasped and slunk back into her throne, hand at her head.

"Your Majesty?" I queried. "Are you all right?"

She nodded after a few moments. "Yes. I think so. I… I haven't eaten this morning. Babiole, I'm sorry for the way you were treated my guards and I'm sorry for how I treated you. I wish to help you with your situation. But for now, I will have to find you some quarters. Excuse me." And with that she stood up and left the room.

Something was off. I knew enough about humans to know that the Queen was very upset. And she had done nothing in the way of addressing anyone to do anything with me. Without thinking, I scrambled after her barely making it through the door before it closed.

The guards did not follow me. Perhaps my sudden acceptance into the palace had scared them off. I didn't care. I had to follow Queen Cerise. There was something about her. I looked up the hall in time to see the edge of her train disappear around the corner.

I moved fast.

It was a chase. She moved fast for such a tiny woman, and she certainly knew the corridors of her palace. At last she entered a room and slammed the door behind her. No way I was getting in

I was being stupid. I had no reason to be stalking a queen. No matter how much she intrigued me. Still, I stopped outside the door and hoped no one would come by.

"I was told she was dead." Queen Cerise's voice was much softer through the door, but still audible enough. "They all told me she was dead."

"Those were your instructions!" responded another voice, one belonging to an older woman. "You needed my advice, and sent the creature to be killed."

The Queen sighed angrily. "I don't even remember what servant it was. She's here, Therese, she's there in the throne room. Alive. She can be no one else. A talking monkey. Hah! I should have suspected when I heard the stories of Flore's court. Sixteen years ago."

"My Queen, does the King know?"

"Of course he doesn't. He's out hunting. And he doesn't need to be troubled with this. All he knows is his daughter was born dead and he doesn't need to know anything else. Especially about this monkey!"

My heart caught in my throat.

"Are you sure it's her, My Queen?" the woman called Therese asked. "What's the coloring of the fur?"

"Black," Queen Cerise replied. I had never heard a more distressed voice. "Therese, those markings were burned into my mind. The moment that hemlock branch touched my daughter and turned her into that thing back there. This is her. You advised me to get rid of her, to tell the King she was dead. You promised me it would work. Advise me again. What do I with this creature?"

"What does she want?"

There was a sigh. "To marry a monkey king, I suppose. The ones that we drove out. I suppose I could return her to Flore, but I hate dealing with that woman. I certainly don't want a monkey around here." Queen Cerise sighed again. "I still have the hemlock branch. In its box. Perhaps… perhaps we can reverse the curse somehow."

"We tried that, My Queen," said Therese. "You can't send her away now that you know she's alive. You wouldn't be able to handle it. Have her killed and be done with it. That fairy is continuing to torture you. End it now."

"I can't kill her, Therese! I… I can't do that upon seeing her again!"

"She's hardly your daughter. Hardly the beautiful baby girl you gave birth to. Keep her, then. You can even tell her what she is, who she is."

"And tell the King?"

Therese sighed. "No. I advise against that. Put her in a tower. Give her everything she needs. No one needs to know."

Queen Cerise was silent for a long time. "Fine. I will take that advice."

Their conversation seemed over.

Slowly, very slowly, my mind became aware of itself. And of me. My body. My furry little monkey body. I brought up my paws and stared at them, flexed my fingers.

This wasn't me.

The fullness of what I just heard was like a dream. I didn't understand. It made no sense.

Queen Cerise was… my mother? And I was… cursed? I wasn't a monkey? This wasn't my body?

Then what was it? I stared at my fur in horror. But this was me! This was who I had been my entire life. I was a monkey. The enchanting monkey of the court. That could talk. I loved me. I was happy.

No I wasn't. Had I not known something was wrong? I had felt it for the past few years. I had never been able to explain it. But somehow I had known. When I had hated my reflection, I had known.

What I didn't know was what I was.

I had felt like a human for so long. I had thought it was because of being around them. Of course I didn't feel like a monkey, I knew nothing about them.

I wasn't one of them.

I couldn't breathe. It was drowning all over again.

I was supposed to be human. I had been born human.

The palace was stifling. I had to get out of it.

I ran through the halls on all fours, as fast I could go. I knew how to do that. I was a monkey that way. Soon enough I saw a window. I was enough of a monkey I could make my up to it and squeeze out.

I was monkey enough. I was only supposed to be human.


	10. In Which Babiole Opens the Box

I resisted screaming until I was near the river. And when I had reached the river and the very tree they had dragged me from that morning, that was exactly what I did. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed until everyone had to know that a monkey was in the area. Oh, no. Not a monkey. A mess of something not quite human and not quite monkey. I climbed up the tree, huddled near the trunk, and squeezed my arms around my furry body.

And when I was done screaming, I cried. I had never felt crying solved much of anything, but I didn't know what else to do and I had no idea how my situation could be solved. Crying wasn't an effort, it was a reaction. I cried and I cried and I would be lying if I said it did not feel amazing in its way. You see, I had cried before, but part of me had always wondered if it were natural for monkeys to cry. Was it to be expected? Now that I knew the truth, crying seemed to be a relief, a privilege, even.

So I cried. I cried because I was scared. I cried because I missed Bastien and Queen Flore. I cried because of some stupid spell I was a monkey. I cried because apparently because of some stupid spell I was not a human. I cried because I had no idea what I was supposed to be. I cried because I had no idea what I was supposed to be thinking.

Hours could have passed before my eyes seemed to have released their last tears. I sniffled, leaned my head back against the tree, and tried to appreciate the beauty of the land. So this was my kingdom. What was supposed to be my kingdom, anyway. I really had no opinion on it. If things had been different, would I feel differently?

Was I mistaken on everything? Was this my land? Did I interpret correctly and were King Achille and Queen Cerise really my parents?

I wasn't sure I wanted Queen Cerise as my mother. She had wanted to lock me in a tower, for heaven's sake. I would not be happy in a tower.

And she had tried to kill me. The realization hit me like a boulder. When… whatever had happened, she had sent me to be drowned. If it had not been for Queen Flore, I would be dead.

I couldn't go back there.

Then where was I to go? Back to Queen Flore? The idea horrified me. She… she thought of me as a monkey. Everyone did. I thought of myself as a monkey, unable to wrap my mind around the concept of human. I didn't know what I was.

"You lived."

I looked down the tree and nearly screamed.

A monkey sat at the bottom, playing with a bag I immediately recognized as the one sent by King Maggot and looking up at me with annoyance.

Gigona.

"You!" I screeched. Then I realized something else. I had understood her.

"Don't get me wrong," Gigona continued, tossing out a small orange. "I'm not entirely upset you're not dead. I really don't know what I would think if you had drowned. Though I think that was the intention. I'm not sure. Pushing you in was a rather spur-of-the-moment emotional thing."

I had never heard a monkey speak to me. And after all I had done in my lifetime as the amazing talking monkey. Of course. The leaf Biroquoi had given to me. Now apparently I had the power to talk with the animal I currently hated the most, the one who was going through my things. I sprang from the tree. "Give that back."

She rolled her eyes, but gave me the bag. "There. Happy? I don't know why you like it so much. The only thing in there valuable is that box. Boxes. Magic. My father must really want to marry you." Disgust dripped from every word.

"The box is magic?" I pulled it out. "King Biroquoi had said it was special…"

"Special, nothing. It's rare magic. Too rare for you. Unless my suspicions are correct…" She studied me strangely.

I did not like the monkey girl who had tried to kill me looking at me, nor did I like her mention of suspicions. Well, Bastien had courted dozens of princesses and this monkey was no princess. Except her monkey people apparently thought she was. My fur bristled. "And what are your suspicions?" Why was I asking that? "I demand to know why you pushed me into the river!"

She shrugged and began to pull at grass. "Because I don't want you marrying my father. My father had my mother. He doesn't need another wife."

"Yet you came with the convoy."

"To investigate you," she replied casually. "I just don't like you. Probably never will. You don't seem the type my father should be marrying. You don't act like a monkey."

Not that again. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes again. "Please. You live in a place of humans. You dress like a human. All your mannerisms are like a human. You would never fit in with monkeys."

I sighed. How human did I act? "So you pushed me into a river."

"You were there. I suppose I should say I'm sorry."

I actually found myself waiting for her apology before I realized what I waste of time it would be. "Are you going to say you're sorry?"

She shrugged. "You're not dead, so I don't think I have anything to apologize about. Really, I would have felt really bad if you had died. I think I just wanted you out of the way. I'm not a murderer."

"Then why are you out here by yourself?" I suddenly considered rushing back into the tree.

She sighed, then locked eyes with me. "They're trying to find you. Let's be honest. We both know you don't want to marry my father. Neither of us want you marrying my father. So, in claims of searching for you and with the bonus of winning said search, I advise you to hide. They all think you would be a great queen."

I don't know what came over me. Maybe it was all the shock I had been through. Maybe it was to convince Gigona I didn't want to be her stepmother. Maybe I was just mad. "What if I told you I wasn't a monkey?"

Gigona stared at me. Then she laughed. "Maybe I could like you." She tossed me the orange she had stolen from the bag. "Go. Get out of here. Let's end this and get back off this land before the stupid human guards return." And with that, she scampered off.

I was a little dazed from my latest run-in with the monkey princess. I sat clutching my bag. Did I trust her? Well, clearly she would not tell Mirlifiche where I was. She didn't want me in her kingdom. I placed the orange in the bag, then stopped. Could I trust her at all? I reached deep inside the bag and found the jade box.

Magic, she had called it. And King Biroquoi had called it special. When everything was hopeless was it to be used.

I had never felt more hopeless than that moment.

Without thinking, I took a rock and bashed open the lock. I don't know what I expected next. Sparks? Fire? Glowing things?

Instead, oil spilled out. The box was full of oil. Not even extraordinary oil. It could have been found in any kitchen anywhere. I dropped the box into my lap and tried to wipe the oil from my hands.

Fur brushed off with the oil.

Horrified, I brought my hands to my face. My fur falling off? But the slowly widening patches revealed something else. Something… skin-like. Of course I had skin beneath my fur but not like this. And with further horror, I watched as my paws slowly extended.

I choked back a scream.

The oil was everywhere, in my lap, all over the grass. The fur had melted from my legs, and with every second that passed I was growing. The oil dripped from my hands and lap, spreading down my arms and legs. Clearly not thinking again, or perhaps morbid to finish this out, I dipped my paws into the mess of oil. They were no longer paws, though. I spread the oil over my face and head. The growing continued. I could hear my bones spreading and creaking and stretching. Fur lay in patches all around me.

Finally, it was all over, just a few patches of oil here and there. And among them I saw on my knees, too frightened to get up. I felt like a giant. If I got up, I would fall over. Something heavy fell from my scalp, but I couldn't investigate. All I could do was stare at my paws.

No, not paws.

Hands.


	11. In Which Babiole Becomes Singette

They were hands. Gigantic human hands like the ones I had seen and not really cared about my entire life. Big, flat, and furless. Skin. Long long fingers with round little nails at the end. No claws. A scream buried in my throat, I wiggled them, just to make sure. And they wiggled. I screamed.

It was a quick scream, just something to express how I felt. Then I shoved those hands to the ground as I gasped for breath. It seemed I needed a lot of breath just to make my chest rise. And what a chest it was.

It then occurred to me that I was completely naked. More naked than I had ever been. I had always been in the habit of wearing clothes, but fur had always counted for something. This time around, I had nothing on.

Human. I was a human, no doubt about it. I was huge and furless and had every appendage I had ever seen on a human. I felt like screaming again, though my mind happily fiddled with the irony of the situation. This was who I was supposed to be, was it not?

What would have happened if I hadn't known about my birth? I would have been pretty much all the more freaked out.

"All right, Babiole," I muttered. "This is… this is just magic. You don't care anything for magic, but apparently you have had plenty of it already and this is just a nice little spell to set everything back as it should be." But I suddenly wanted to be a monkey again. Being a monkey was safe.

I flattened my long bare feet against the grass and pushed myself up. Very slowly. I hated to think of myself as a coward but there was no doubt this was pretty much terrifying. Even huddled down I had been bigger than I had ever been and each inch I rose into the air without the comfort for a human body beneath me just built up the screams I was not screaming. My legs were much too long and too unsteady for any proper balance. My knees were still mostly bent when I tumbled forward.

Something long, thick, and black fell into my face when I fell, and I took it in my hands. Hair. I had hair. No fur, but I had hair the exact same color. And bunches of it. More hair than I had ever seen.

I tried standing again, this time with more success. My feet and legs shook under me and the hair was more weight than I could nearly stand, but if I concentrated and I pretended I was merely on someone's shoulder it wasn't so bad.

The hair, I noticed fell right past my knees. Who had hair that long? That didn't keep it bundled up? Then again, if I had been too busy being a monkey for sixteen years I would have never bothered to cut my hair.

The box lay at my feet, and I didn't dare risk picking it up. Magic. What kind of magic was this? Well, I couldn't be worried about it now. I was a human without a stitch of clothing. The clothes I had worn earlier had burst with my growth. My pretty gown was no more than a few handkerchiefs.

And if things could not possibly get any worse, the sound of horses coming my way reached my giant human ears.

My first reaction was to climb into the tree, so I went with it. I had never felt so clumsy. I was easily able to grab the boughs above, but I did not know what to do with my feet. They scraped against the bark, unable to cling to anything.

The next thing I knew the sound of trotting horses had stopped. With a silent swear I dove behind the tree.

"Girl! Miss!" an old woman's voice cried out.

I had been seen. My naked humanness had been spotted.

"Well, don't just stand there, Gilles, go see if the poor thing is lost!"

Gilles was a male name. I knew enough about human behavior to not let a man see me like this. "Don't!" I cried.

The old woman's voice laughed. "Ah, so she is there. Dear girl, come out here so we can see you!"

Apparently they had not noticed I was naked. I took a deep breath and quickly thought of a lie. "I… I was swimming in the river, and it seems I have misplaced my clothes."

Silence.

I took another deep breath and released it, somewhat amazed at how much my lungs could hold. Peering around the tree, I saw the carriage. A beautiful thing, with an elderly driver and four white horses. Inside I could see the face of an old woman with a powdered face and hair pulled tightly back.

"Gilles, go through my trunk," the old woman's voice commanded. "Find something for the poor girl. We can't leave her out here naked with ruffians about!"

"Yes, My Queen," said the old man with his creaking voice as he slowly descended from the driver's seat. On ground, he was much faster, and before I knew it he had pulled a very large gold-plated trunk from the back of the carriage and was flipping through it.

At last he pulled out a dress. It was not what I would have chosen, much too fancy, like the carriage. It was a deep red and trimmed with more lace than I had ever seen. "This should be small enough for a young girl."

"Take it to her, Gilles," the woman said impatiently. "Don't make her wait. No, take that back. Don't take it to her. Toss it to her and respect her dignity, the poor thing!"

Gilles nodded, hobbled a few feet closer to my tree, and with surprising strength tossed the dress for me. My ridiculously long arms were too clumsy to catch it, but it landed close enough for me to pull toward me. I slipped it over my head. It was much too big, but thankfully covered me. I was now a human girl wearing a dress. With a deep breath, I stepped out and nearly tripped over the dress' hem as well as my big feet.

"Much better," the Queen said after looking me over with scrutiny. "Now get in the carriage immediately and tell me what has been going on. I don't believe for a second this lie about you misplacing your clothes. You're perfectly dry."

Not used to disobeying queens, I obeyed. Gilles opened the door for me, and I somehow managed to get myself up onto the bench across from the Queen. Walking was far more difficult than I had imagined, but at least I could blame it on the too-big dress.

"Start moving again, Gilles," the Queen commanded. "I don't want to keep Queen Flore up too late. She expects me today."

Queen Flore? I bit my lip.

The Queen did not so much as smile at me. I half-expected her to criticize my lack of royal respect; I would have deserved it, but in my state it was the last thing on my mind. I couldn't even speak.

As soon as the horses had started back into a steady rhythm the Queen spoke again. "Well, don't bore me! What happened out there? The last thing I expected was to see a naked girl running about. Were you robbed?"

"I was swimming…"

The Queen rolled her eyes. They were a magnificently bright brown, the only time I had ever seen brown so bright. Her face was smooth, only her heavily lined eyes and white hair telling her age. She was dressed more extravagantly than I was in a dress that seemed to consist of poofs and more colors than the rainbow. "Yes, yes, you said. But you're dry now, so you're either lying or your clothes were stolen while you were swimming. So immodest, swimming in the river."

I had no idea how to reply.

"Did anyone hurt you?" she demanded.

I cast my eyes down. "No, Your Highness. No one did anything to me. Just took my clothes."

"You poor dear. Tell me your name, girl."

I almost said Babiole, but if this Queen did know Queen Flore I didn't want the names to become mixed. Especially if we were heading toward Queen Flore's kingdom. So I said the second thing that came to my mind, as ridiculous as it was. "Singette." A play on monkey. I could have smacked myself. "My name is Singette."

"Singette," the Queen repeated. "Unusual name. But pretty. Like you. It's a very pretty name."

Pretty? I was pretty? I had no time to think of myself being pretty.

"Where do you come from, Singette?"

"I…" I had no idea how to respond, so I let another lie develop. "My parents are dead. I was just traveling through when you found me."

The Queen sighed with pity, then reached over and patted my hand. "Well, I'll see that you are taken care of. Have you heard of Queen Flore? I'm traveling to visit her tonight."

So we were going to Queen Flore. Home. Except I just wanted to panic. They were supposed to see me like this? Except I was not Babiole, I was Singette.

"Unless you are going somewhere in particular, I will take you with me. We can get you cleaned up, get some food into you, and maybe figure out something to do with you."

"I would like that very much, Your Highness," I said demurely. I had to appear calm, at least somewhat calm, as the carriage grew closer and closer to home.

All the while my heart pounded and I was surprised the Queen did not hear a thing. Would I mess up and reveal that I knew Queen Flore? Would she somehow recognize me? Was this spell permanent or would I suddenly find myself a monkey again? I had no way of knowing, and the latter thought was frightening. I wanted to know for sure.

The Queen seemed through asking me questions and chatted about herself or kept happily silent. Her name was Patricia and she ruled over a tiny kingdom just beyond Queen Cerise's. I could hardly think of her as my mother. She had never married and had no children and was determined to carry her crown with her to her grave. She had no patience for silly immodest girls, men who played sports, and slow music. She was visiting Queen Flore for political purposes as the kingdoms had an alliance. She spoke in the same sharp voice with very little change in tone. I decided I liked her, though it was difficult to pay attention.

All I could think about was my body under this dress and the fact that despite my plans I was going to see Bastien again.

Darkness had long since fallen when the carriage pulled up, and true to her form Queen Flore was waiting to greet even though I knew she would have rather been in bed hours ago. Queen Flore was like that.

It was the same greeting I had seen time and time again over the years. The queens were polite and formal—clearly they did not see each other much. We were well into the palace before Queen Patricia bothered mentioning me.

"This is Singette, a stray I found on the way. She was robbed. I told her you would be hospitable. I'll be caring for her during the course of my stay."

I couldn't look at Queen Flore. Already I was a mess in my new gangly body and this ridiculous dress. I was so happy to be home, though. What had possessed me ever to leave? Hopefully my lack of social skills would be mistaken for respect and reverence. "Thank-you," I murmured.

But Queen Flore looked at me for a long time, then lifted my chin with her hands. I locked eyes with her for only a moment before casting my gaze down. "Singette. Welcome. Ask my servants for anything you would like." She smiled. "You're a beautiful girl."

So I had been told.

"I advise you to stay away from my son," she continued. "He has quite a reputation with girls. I'm trying desperately to marry him off."

Bastien could not see me like this.

I wound up spending the night in a room reserved for the finest of guests, one I had played in many times when I was young. Plans would be made for me in the morning. I didn't know what that meant.

There was a mirror in the room. I remembered the last time I had looked into the mirror and had tried to break it. Had I not liked my monkey face?

It took me four tries to look into the mirror. Each time I approached it, I became scared. But the fourth time I just did it.

I had seen enough humans to know what beauty was. Or at least I had thought so. As I stared at the girl in the reflection, I had no idea who she was or if she were pretty or not. Her skin was good, her eyes big and dark, and all that long black hair was rather shiny. But beautiful? I couldn't tell.

Truth be told, I didn't want to think about it.

I tried to curl up in the bed, but my body didn't seem to know how to do that. There was no tail to wrap around me, and I suddenly could not remember how humans slept.


	12. In Which Singette Meets Bastien

I sort of hoped it had all been a dream, that I would wake up in my little chamber off of Queen Flore's, a sweet and charming monkey who had never agreed to marry a monkey king or had opened a box of magic oil. The memory of all the madness was there upon waking, but it was fuzzy and blurred; I found myself counting on it not being real.

It was real.

The bedclothes lay off to the side in a single impressive knot. The nightgown I had been given was twisted around my too big and very human legs.

I screamed and tumbled off the bed. The unfortunate results of that was all that long black hair stuck in my mouth.

All the features of the new me, or the always-supposed-to-be-me, were right there, still there. I grabbed the bedpost and pulled myself to my feet. I breathed deeply. I could handle this. I had suffered through it yesterday. It was fine, it was good. I could not deny that something felt right about it.

I stared into mirror. It was barely dawn, and the faint light made my human look stranger than ever. I carefully rose a hand to my cheek. I could not get over how I looked.

A brush lay on the dresser, clean and ready for any guest and different from the soft brushes that had always been used for my fur. Was I supposed to use this for my hair? I picked it up, marveling at how my fingers wrapped around the handle. I could do this, I had seen Queen Flore do it a thousand times.

My first clumsy attempt ended with the brush tangled in my hair. I yanked it out. How hard could it be to brush hair? It was just like brushing fur. Really long fur. Bristles to hair, nice pull, nothing wrong with them being short.

After a few minutes I decided my hair looked fine and threw the brush against the wall. Stupid brush. How did humans put up with them?

Queen Flore had provided me with a dress the night before. It was a pale green, simple, pretty, and tasteful. I wondered if it were one of hers, but it was still stiff with newness. Which led to the question of why she had new dresses lying about. Probably in hopes that one day Bastien would marry.

Bastien. I felt sick at the very thought of him.

At least the dress looked nice and fit much better than Queen Patricia's had. I slipped from the room. I had always been an early riser; once I had blamed it on my monkeyhood, but apparently it could be argued as just my nature. No one was in the halls, and it was only when I passed the kitchen that I could hear servants chattering. All through growing up I had snuck into the kitchens most mornings in hopes of winning a small treat. But it was one thing for the palace monkey to beg for food and quite another for some strange girl to do so. Though I was starving. When had been the last time I had eaten? Ah, well, food was food and easy enough to get even in my situation and I still had no idea how this crazy human body would process food.

It was only when I was back among the trees that I felt calm. Trees had that effect on me. They were tall and green and slow-growing, plus I could hide among them. I walked along the trails, drinking in the green above me. This was safe, this was good. So much better than being a human somewhere unfamiliar.

Except something was wrong. I did not walk the paths of the gardens and orchards. I crossed through the branches. Walking was such an uninteresting way of travel. Up in the branches was where I could leap about and spy on people.

Well, why not? I moved to a tree, grabbed a low branch, and pulled myself up. It was easier than I had expected, especially when I stopped worrying about it. Don't focus on being a clumsy human, just climb. Lower branch to higher branch, one by one. The higher I climbed, the easier it became. I was not quite as spry as a monkey, and I certainly missed my tail, but my size was a benefit.

"Excuse me?"

Bastien's voice stopped me in the middle of hoisting my leg onto a rather awkwardly placed branch. I looked down. Yes, it was definitely Bastien, handsome as always and looking utterly perplexed.

I wanted to kill him. Clearly my fury at him still remained. But as I had nothing with which to kill him, I just cleared my throat and said "Hello Bastien." Yikes. I hadn't remembered the respectful title of "Prince".

He seemed to notice, and frowned. "Yes, I am Prince Bastien."

Did he always bring up the prince thing when he was around girls? I rolled my eyes. "I realize, Your Majesty. Forgive me. I spoke out of turn." There. Groveling done.

"You know who I am?"

I nodded. "Yes. Your Majesty." I had never called him such a thing in my entire life.

"I am afraid, miss, I do not know your name."

I suddenly realized that I should maybe put my leg down. My position wasn't very ladylike. Then again, I had noticed over the years it wasn't ladylike to be in a tree at all. "My name is… Singette. I arrived last night with Queen Patricia."

He nodded with awareness that meant he was more or less oblivious to all that information. "Ah, yes. My mother the queen mentioned we had guests."

Why was he being so formal? "I awoke early and decided to see the trees."

He gave a sweeping hand gesture. "My mother likes trees. There you go. But why are you in one?"

"In order to get a better look at the forest rather than the trees," I said dryly. "I enjoy climbing trees."

I couldn't be sure, but Bastien may have cracked a smile. I couldn't remember a single girl of his who had climbed trees. Even so, with the way he stared up at me, I myself felt a little stupid.

"If you climbed down, I could show you where fairies live," he said.

My jaw dropped. What on earth? So now he was showing fairy homes among the trees? "Are you joking?"

His smile faltered. Oh, heavens, he had been flirting. "They're quite charming. Fairies and elves love to make their homes here."

My one encounter with a fairy had been rather uneventful. I doubted they would want to live so close to humans. "No, they don't."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Singette. I've lived here longer."

Technically that was true, but he did not beat me by far. As it was, I refused to climb down. "And do the fairies and elves like you poking around their homes? Aren't you worried about curses? Magical revenge? Being turned into a toad?"

He stared. I doubt any of the girls he had ever courted had ever said such a thing to him. "Would you like to at least take a walk?"

I considered that. To my infinite surprise, I had to consider it. But how did it look for a girl who had been found naked in the countryside to refuse the offers of a prince, no matter how idiotic? "I would be flattered and honored, Your Majesty."

Climbing down was just as easy if not easier. I was getting used to my arms and legs, and I landed on the ground with a graceful leap.

"You really are good at climbing trees," Bastien said after a moment's shocked pause.

I took him in. He was quite handsome, and I had to wonder when I had first started thinking of him as handsome. His hair was messy—apparently he had just awoken not long ago too, and he was dressed in a simple white shirt and a pair of grey trousers. Probably not the best outfit for impressing the ladies, but I liked it. He seemed so much smaller now, though he was still a good head taller than me. Still, that was nothing. I smiled at him and curtsied.

"Pleased to meet you again, Singette," he said with a bow. Then he pulled a leaf out my hair. "You do realize you're barefoot?"

Barefoot? I looked down at my feet. Indeed, they were without shoes. Go figure. "Um, I don't wear shoes."

"How can you not where shoes?"

"It seems a waste. Plus, it's rather hard to climb trees without shoes."

He seemed even more confused by me. "If you say so. You seem to be the expert."

Were my bare feet supposed to feel pain? There was sure a lot to learning to be human. "Prince Bastien, I thought we were going on a walk."

He cleared his throat. He no longer seemed all that excited. "Yes, of course. If you still want to join me."

"I don't want to look at fairies homes," I said.

"Angel rings, then. Where angels come down."

"I doubt they do." Were these the lines he used with girls? They were ridiculous. "Any rare trees? I'd like to see those."

"… I wouldn't know." He took my arm gingerly in his.

"All these trees and you don't even know the science!" I should have been more demure, but I couldn't stop talking. It had been years since I had done anything with Bastien. And so far it was not all that fun.


	13. In Which Singette and Bastien Walk

The walk was boring., an awkward exercise in preventing myself from saying anything about me and listening to Bastien's rambling while wondering why I had never noticed it before. He led me along the trails I had known for years, blathering on about them. Several times I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying I had already seen them. The entire time he held my arm in what should have been a kind manner, but apparently I just was not yet comfortable with human touching. It was all I could do not to rip my arm away.

While I suffered, Bastien just kept talking. It did not even seem like I mattered, or that I was even there. I was merely something for him to talk to. Truth was that it might have been a little more interesting if I had not known everything already, but I could not help but suspect that he would not care what I knew and did not know.

So I let my mind wander. There was nothing else to do, and I had to admit that someone holding my arm certainly made walking much easier. So there was a benefit of this encounter: practicing walking. I could think about that, think about how my feet had to move, where they had to be placed, all the little details that went into movement. Which led me to thinking about my situation. Was this permanent? Would it suddenly wear off? Bastien did not play very often in my thoughts. There was no reason for him to do so when he was right there. I had never noticed he had talked so much?

The next thing I knew was Bastien staring at me expectantly.

"Yes?" I asked.

He blinked and frowned. "I… don't understand your answer."

Good grief, he had asked me a question. This was unexpected. "I'm sorry, I was noticing… that." I gestured at a dead tree. "Why hasn't it been cleaned up yet?"

Or did he expect me to answer his question first?

He laughed. "A dead tree? What's wrong with a dead tree?"

"It's kind of ugly, Your Majesty."

He let go of my arm and darted up to the dead tree. "No, it's not! It's marvelous! It's dead, it's spooky—"

"Spooky?" I had seen the dead tree before for years. Bastien had never said a word about it being spooky.

"Haunted. 

"You think a tree is haunted?"

"Why not?" He pulled himself onto a lower branch and wrapped the tree with his knuckles. The entire tree reverberated with sound. "Do you hear the ghosts?"

I frowned. "Um, no. I'm afraid I don't."

He laughed again and hopped down. "You are no fun. You don't believe in fairies or ghosts or anything interesting."

I was definitely up for believing in fairies. Had I not told him about a fairy only to have him mock it? I sighed and crossed my arms. "And you do? My Prince, you are like a child."

His smile was confident as he pulled my arm back into his. "I prefer to think creative. Such ideas are so much more fun than reality."

"So you have no interest in reality?"

He resumed walking, the dead tree forgotten. "On the contrary, I'm very fond of reality. Hunting, sports, dances, beautiful girls like yourself."

Like myself? Was I supposed to be flattered? Suddenly the question of whether or not this human body was attractive was null and void. It was all I could do not to smack him. That would have been good. A physical attack from some girl some queen had found on the road. Clearly I would not be responding to that. "Oh. So then you're saying your fairies and ghosts aren't part of reality?"

"Well, I have heard of people with fairy godmothers but I have never met an actual fairy godmother…"

"So they don't exist?" Maybe I should just tell him. Tell him just how awful fairies could be. But why would he believe that story?

His face was red now. Had any of his other princesses and ladies bullied him into this conversation? "Let's talk about something else. Singette, do you hunt?"

Finally a question about me. "No."

That seemed to disappoint him. "Tennis, then. Do you enjoy tennis?"

"No, I'm afraid I've never played."

"Would you like to play?"

"Toss a ball back and forth that would probably hit my eye? No thank-you."

"I'm sure a girl as lovely as you would enjoying dancing."

"I'm afraid I've never tried dancing."

Bastien did not seem to have another idea to offer up, even though I waited for him to ask where I had come from, what I did like to do. Perhaps I should have prepared a better history for Singette, but he wasn't giving me the opportunity.

It seemed our little walk would end in silence. I didn't mind. I just wanted to get away from Bastien. So we hadn't spoke much in the last few years. All right. Was that enough time for him to become so exceedingly boring and for me to become blind to it? No wonder he couldn't get married. No surprise there.

Maybe I should have just married the Monkey King, though that seemed a little late at the moment. I kept my eyes forward, waiting for the towers of the palace to come into view.

But just as they did, something else appeared. A little monkey, peeking out from among the leaves above.

For a moment my mind went wild with confusion. I was the monkey who hid in the branches. Was this me? No, that was impossible because I was on the ground and definitely not a monkey. This monkey was bored, disinterested…

And Gigona.

My little almost-stepdaughter. Back when I had been a monkey. The sheer madness of the idea.

Should I call out to her? Yell at her to go away? She was probably going through the motions of looking for me. Though she had found me and was merely incapable of recognizing me.

"What do you see?" Bastien asked.

I had forgotten he was the pressure on my arm. I whirled to look at him, then back to the leaves where Gigona had disappeared.

"A monkey," I replied softly.

The words should have caused an uproar. After all, I had been the monkey he knew best. There should have been familiarity at the word, preferably with a look of sadness and longing. I would have even accepted a happy memory. But while he certainly did not seem bothered by the idea of a monkey, that was pretty much his response.

"There were some monkeys around here the other day."

And for the past sixteen years, I wanted to scream.

"There was a monkey who lived here," he continued. "The other day some Monkey King requested her hand in marriage, so she went to him. The King had sent a lot of monkeys. It wouldn't surprise me if some were still here." He looked up. "If I were a monkey I think this would be a great place."

A minor mention of me. I could have hit him again. "What was this monkey like?"

"I don't know, you're the one who saw it."

"The monkey who lived here! The one who went to marry the Monkey King!"

"Oh!" His mouth split into a wide grin. "You mean Babiole. She was an exceptional monkey. She would speak. Not just say a few words, but talk to you. Hold a conversation with you. We were famous for her."

Bastien should have been grateful we were close enough to the palace I could end the walk. Otherwise I would have killed him. "Thank-you for the walk, Prince Bastien," I said coldly as I pulled my arm from him. "It was good to make your acquaintence."

He did not readily let my arm go. "You're going?"

"I'm tired from our walk."

"But—"

I pretended not to hear him. It was better for him that way. So that's all I was. A monkey who had made the palace famous. A remarkable animal.

I had never been a friend to him, apparently.

I had to find out the soonest time I could get away from here.


	14. In Which Singette Receives Proposals

Breakfast was entirely unpleasant for me. The food smelled delicious and I had no doubt it was, but my human hands were unused to knives and forks and eve if they were I had no appetite. I picked and chewed and swallowed and managed to present a fair enough semblance of eating—at least no one said anything.

We—Queen Flore, Queen Patricia, Bastien, and myself—ate at a small table over looking the courtyard. It was a common and charming enough place for breakfast, and the day had remained as gorgeous as the early morning. I should have felt at home there. The queens chatted, even trying to draw me into their conversation, and Bastien smiled and talked pleasantly to me like he had absolutely no idea how he had behaved that morning. Though upon consideration I decided he either did not know or knew and didn't care. I wondered if my fury showed on my face, but no one asked how I was feeling. Queen Flore had always been good at reading faces, so perhaps I was still incapable of properly using a human face.

What stroke of misfortune had led me back here? I had been off to the Monkey Kingdom. I wasn't supposed to see much of this place again. And within days I was back to be tormented by the man I thought I had loved. How could I have been such a fool? He was Bastien! I had known Bastien for as long as I could remember. How had I dared to expect anything else from him but such conceited behavior? So we had often mocked some of the sillier girls he had courted. How was I to have known he treated all girls the same way? I might have helped him discover taste in women but he was still the same idiot. Occasionally I looked up to see him watching me, but just as often he would be looking at something else.

It was a relief, I finally decided. I had been nothing but a silly little girl, a silly little monkey with her heart in the wrong place.

"I wish you could have met her!" Queen Flore was telling Queen Patricia. "My Babiole."

The bite I had taken stopped mid-swallow. Finally, mention of me.

"I had heard many great things of her," Queen Patricia said after a bite of egg.

Queen Flore laughed softly. "It's such a pity you arrived when you did. You missed her by only a couple of days. She was such a pretty thing, and very smart. For anyone. I know some travelers just thought she was like a parrot with fur, but she was as smart as anyone."

My heart flipped. Oh, this was so much better than bothering myself with Bastien. I tried to fight down a little smile.

"She was like the daughter I never had." Queen Flore brushed a tear from her eye. "Which is exactly why the marriage happened."

"Of course," replied Queen Patricia. "She hardly sounds like any sort of pet! Are animals not people in their own right? And if she is as smart and observant as you say she is she has every right to make her own decisions."

"It's a great opportunity for her, this marriage. I couldn't allow her to pass it up especially when she agreed to it."

I wanted to laugh. If only Queen Flore knew.

"I just can't imagine Babiole living with other monkeys," said Bastien.

I wanted to kick him under the table. Right under it.

"Well, we shall just have to insist she visits," Queen Flore said, pulling her napkin from her lap and tossing it onto her finished plate. Then she looked at me, eyes bright. "Singette, are you fond of monkeys?"

I nodded. "Very much, Your Majesty."

"You have taste. I like that. You would have loved Babiole. I've barely met you, and already I think you would be great friends."

"I'm sure we would."

"Do you know who has an irrational hatred of monkeys?" Queen Patricia asked.

Queen Flore's face darkened, and she rolled her eyes. "Queen Cerise. And that silly husband of hers just goes right along with it."

"Though I can hardly blame him, Achille loves her." She sighed. "Achille has been pestering me again."

"For your kingdom?"

"Why would we want it?" Bastien interrupted. "His is large enough."

Great. The entire lovely breakfast scene was turning into a matter of state business. Such things had before intrigued me, but now I just wasn't in the mood. But I couldn't think of a single way to excuse myself and no one seemed to mind my presence.

Queen Patricia looked at Bastien with stern approval. Yes, that was right. Pat Bastien on the back for doing what was eventually to be his job. "As you know, I never married. However, King Achille and I always did assume I would, and we had once made a plan that if possible any children we had could marry. My kingdom is small, and it seemed a wise idea. However, I never had children and his only child died at birth. Apparently he still wants the kingdom."

Bastien barely glanced at his mother before continuing. "We will be more than happy to give you any help you need."

"Of course," Queen Flore agreed.

Queen Patricia gave a small laugh, though her smile was wide. "Thank-you. I doubt it will come to anything drastic for a time, but I will not lie that part of my reason for coming was to ask for your support."

"I'm embarrassed you felt you even had to ask for it," Queen Flore said. Then she stood up and looked at me. "Singette, I apologize for boring you with this talk. A girl like you probably had more romantic ideas about palace life and I'm so sorry to disappoint you."

"Not at all," I said. "I'm practical. I like to know our rulers are doing something to run their countries, Your Majesty. I hate to think you were in here ignoring everyone."

Everyone laughed at that, and I felt a spark of satisfaction.

"I quite like you," Queen Flore continued. "Here, come with me for a moment. I want to show you more of the palace."

I probably knew more about the palace than she did—monkey-size was perfect for exploring. But I had never been one to refuse her, so I followed, trying to mold my face into looks of awe as she pointed out things I had seen for years.

At last she cut to the chase. "You don't strike me as a commoner, Singette. You mentioned your parents were dead, but you seem noble."

All right, I could elaborate on my story. "My father was a knight, but the family fortune had long been spent by the time he took the title. When they died, I didn't have much left." I considered adding something about my parents being murdered, but it was too much like what Bastien would think of.

"Such a loss. You have my sympathies. I take it you are not betrothed to anyone?"

Not this. Did the woman do nothing but try to get people married? But an intention to marry would not fit into my story of wandering unless I was being forced to marry a crazed maniac. "No, Your Majesty."

She didn't speak for several long moments. "I have a son," she finally said. "You know that. Of course you know that. And I am already very fond of you, Singette. I feel like I have known you for years. He will inherit my throne. He has many flaws, to be sure, but I could not have asked for a better person in my son."

My heart pounded. No, no, no. I did not want to marry Bastien. Not anymore.

"I can already tell he likes you," she continued. "And nothing would be forced. But if you were interested in a courtship with him, well, I would approve of it more than with any other girl."

If this had happened two days ago I would have ran off, found Bastien, and dragged him to an alter. But all I could do was turn my attention to a painting of a tree. "Your Majesty, your offer is more than I could have ever hoped for it, but I spent time with Prince Bastien this morning. I'm afraid I feel nothing for him."

To my surprise, she laughed. "Babiole used to make fun of him. You probably see what she sees in him. Absolutely nothing worthwhile. It makes me like you all the more. Don't worry, I'm not hurt. I only wanted to make the offer for I thought you would be a great daughter-in-law."

"Does Your Majesty have any other sons?" I asked as I smiled at her.

She laughed harder. "I'm afraid not! But let me give you another offer, this one from Queen Patricia."

"Queen Patricia?"

She nodded. "We actually… fought over you. But we both decided it would be your decision. She is just as taken with you as I am. I told her I wanted to try to marry you off to Bastien, while she just wanted to take you home with her to her kingdom. Think about it. She is one of the finest people I know, and she has never spoken of taking anyone in before, at least to my knowledge."

"I…" I didn't know what to say.

"It would be a great opportunity for you. Living and studying in a palace. She believes in education. You would have so many chances to meet people. Maybe not as much as traveling, but there is a lot more comfort involved."

I still didn't know what to think, though my mind seemed to suggest thinking about this offer. And I couldn't think of a reason why not. I didn't know what to do with myself on the road and I couldn't very well stay here.

My mind still not in control, I nodded. "Yes."


	15. In Which a Fish is Mentioned Talking

Queen Patricia was thrilled to hear of my decision and demonstrated it with as much excitement as she could physically give—much of it consisted of less of a stony face and more brightness to her eyes. It was as if she had made the decision for me and was quite proud of herself for doing so. Did she have any idea what she was getting into? What sort of woman took in a strange girl after only a day of knowing her? While I could understand Queen Flore's attachment to me, Queen Patricia's was a mystery. If Queen Flore were not so trusting of her I would have been terrified.

I let the logic flow down to self-blame. If Queen Patricia were trustworthy, I had nothing to fear save the question of why; and that had no basis other than curiosity. I could have said no, but in another moment of madness I had agreed. I was getting far too good at just going along with what others suggested. Marry a monkey king, Babiole. All right. Go home with a strange Queen, Singette. Certainly.

It made no sense. Queen Flore did whatever she wanted. But then again, she was the queen and everyone else had to obey her. It was the way of the world. Did the same behavior exist in the monkey kingdom or was this only how humans acted? I tried to tell myself it was my choice. Was there anything wrong with it? I knew nothing of anything beyond palace life. I quite liked Queen Patricia, and this would stick an entire kingdom between myself and Bastien. But the other answer was that I had no idea what else to do.

Much had to be done. I was poked and prodded and measured until the queens were satisfied at my official dress size. Somehow the procedure was infinitely more awkward as a human. I was then asked about the colors and styles I preferred. I answered in confusion, not sure of just what would look good on me. My answers didn't matter, though, as I suspected Queen Patricia didn't care and would dress me how she saw fit. The information was given to a servant, who would ride ahead. When we arrived in her kingdom in a few days, I would have the finest beginnings of a wardrobe, she promised.

For the remainder of Queen Patricia's visit I was at a loss of what to do. I did my best to avoid Bastien and for the most part succeeded. When he spoke to me, I responded, and I even joined him on another walk. None of it was any more promising than the first time.

I couldn't fathom what he was thinking. For so many years I had thought I had understood his thoughts concerning all the silly girls. I was not one of them. I was smart, talented, possibly blessed with a different view of human nature. When it came to young ladies who were interesting, just what did go through Bastien's head? Here I had become a game to him. The more I avoided him, the more adamant he was that he would speak to me.

Had I still been a monkey I would have clawed his eyes out. That would have been a fine addition to the repertoire of the amazing Babiole.

It was perhaps terrible of me, but the day I left I sought out Bastien on my own. I couldn't be sure, but he seemed rather disappointed I was leaving. I racked my brain for any memory of any girl who had snubbed him, but couldn't think of many. I'm sure I did it right, though. I was charming and gracious as I had been raised to be. I smiled and made sure my expression expressed nothing but delight at meeting him. I thanked him for making his acquaintance and for how he treated a simple nobleman's daughter.

Then I left. I hopped into Queen Patricia's carriage and made a promise to myself I would never see Bastien again.

The journey was different than my first; for one thing, no monkeys. It also rained. The curtains were drawn and Queen Patricia seemed lost in her own world. I didn't mind that as I still had no idea what to say to the woman. I had already thanked her and did not want to be known as the gratitude-gushing girl. I mostly sat quietly and stared at my hands.

I still not feel fully comfortable as a human. The space I took up was sinful. I was clumsy. I tended to over think every action even as my body wanted to do it instinctively. Most of all, I missed how I had moved before: quick, light, always ready to move, things so much more acceptable as a monkey.

The drive seemed endless. The rain pattering against the carriage roof would lull me into daydreams I couldn't remember, then the littlest things would jerk me from that and back into boredom. Through it all Queen Patricia was silent. I eventually took to studying her face, and decided that by human standards she had never been particularly beautiful when young. Yet she now bore a certain grace that was as good as any loveliness.

I was not sure how many hours had passed when I finally spoke to her. "Your Majesty?"

Her eyes, which had been formerly half-closed, opened without surprise, as if she had been waiting for me to speak.

I tried to make myself as gracious and modest as possible. "Your Majesty, I have already told you how grateful I am for your kindness. But I don't understand. You hardly know me."

"Nonsense." Her voice was dismissive. "We've known each other over a week now. We've chatted over plenty of things. We argued about history. I still like the Roman Empire, and let's me done with that."

"Forgive me, but a few debates about the Roman Empire is hardly enough for you to take me in."

"Sure it is." Her eyes sparkled with amusement while her voice remained stern.

I smiled. I couldn't help but quite like the Queen. "So you're bringing me into your home in order to oppose your views of history."

"Yes."

The Queen was so serious that for a moment I believed her.

Then she laughed, with its delight quickly slipping into a sound more serious. "You're a smart girl for asking about this, Singette. I expected you to wonder soon enough. I'm generous as I can be, but I like my privacy and I like my independence. I'm no bleeding heart that seeks out every orphaned child dumped into the woods."

I realized I had been pulling at a loose thread in my dress. I force my hands to be still.

She sighed deeply, then leaned forward. "I had a dream the very night we met."

A dream? I was here because of a dream. Queen Patricia was one of those people. Serious and poised, she liked to consider dreams.

"In my dream, I saw a fish. And is the way with dreams, he spoke. He told me to take you to my palace and make you my heir."

It was all I could do to keep my mouth closed. Queen Patricia had said it all without a hint of passion. Stately. Even a hint of boredom. I was Singette, an innocent little daughter of some knight. Far beneath even Babiole to question a queen. But Biroquoi? Who else could the fish have been?

Crazy talking fish entering dreams.

But no. It had to be a coincidence.

Her eyes studied my face, perhaps looking for surprise. There might have been; aside from closing my mouth I wasn't sure at all what do with my face. At last she leaned back against the seat, satisfied with my response. "Call me superstitious, if you will. But I believe in dreams. One has never led me wrong before. My grandfather had a court wizard who often spoke of dream magic. It's all true."

I finally spoke. "You're taking me in because of a dream?"

"Yes. Don't get me wrong, Singette. I like you. I am pleased I like you. It makes me all the happier to obey the dream."

"Thank-you." I wasn't sure what I was thanking her for.

"You're a princess now, you realize. Or will be, when the announcement is made and the papers drawn up. You have a lot to learn."

My heart twisted in fear. "I will try."

Queen Patricia smiled, then closed her eyes. "Good."

The conversation was over. I was a princess because of a talking fish. Simple as that.

All that was left was the sound of the rain.


	16. In Which Gigona Reappears

Nothing of Queen Patricia's kingdom struck me as extraordinary, but the sight of the city appearing through the rainy mist held me in awe. The city was dark with night and weather. No one had ventured into the rain and so no one knew of the girl taken through the city and through the palace gates.

The carriage stopped before the palace doors. Before I had time to comprehend my apparent new home I was covered in a thick cloak and pulled into the rain. Clumsy as I was, a few missteps in the mud were no match for the servants who mobbed me the moment the carriage wheels paused. I was pulled through a haze of halls by people who wouldn't give me a word edgewise, stripped of my clothes by chatty women, and in the end found myself gasping for breath in a tub of hot, rose-scented water. At least privacy was allowed while I bathed.

The bath was pleasant. I was sore from the journey and it seemed ages since I had been alone. So I happily enjoyed the bath and tried to comprehend just what had possessed me to come to this place. The room was small, containing little more than room for the tub and a spot for dressing. But the details were so ornate that I knew Queen Patricia had a hand in them.

When finished, I stepped from the bath and wrapped myself in a towel. Through the door was a bedroom I assumed was mine. A fire had been built, the pale red covers of the bed turned down. The color was repeated throughout the room, mixed with shades of brown. It was a likeable arrangement. A white nightdress lay across a chair. I walked past it to the window. It hung open, rain visibly coming down beyond it and a puddle of water fresh on the windowsill. I pulled it close.

"Cut off my exit, will you?"

I nearly let go of the towel.

Sitting on top of the nightgown where she had not been moments ago was Gigona, tiny and pretty with a look meant to kill. A monkey. A sweet, little, not-so-innocent monkey. I felt the briefest twinge of jealousy.

Was I yet authorized to order guards? And what? Look like a silly girl unable to take care of a mere monkey? "What are you doing here?"

A good demand. My voice did not waver and I sounded like I had grown up in a royal court.

Gigona was not fazed. She just tilted her head to the side and smiled. "Following you. Obviously."

Which meant… she knew who I was? Impossible. A thought that was followed by a stupid mistake. "Why are you following me?"

The grin on her face widened. "Don't you think it strange you are conversing with a monkey? Babiole?"

I sat down on the bed, stunned.

She hopped from the chair and scurried over the floor toward me. "I thought it was you. I couldn't be sure, but I thought it was you. This confirms it. You've gotten big."

No sense in lying about anything with her. "I'm not really a monkey."

"Clearly. You took far too well to humanity. Let me guess. You used the oil, didn't you?"

"In the box? Yes."

"Such an amazing result. I shall have to report this to my father. Takumin oil is extremely powerful but one never hears of any impressive results. Youthful regeneration, healing, all boring in comparison to transforming into another species." She hopped onto the bed and before I could do anything set into examining my hands.

"I don't understand how you are not really a monkey. I can see it but I'm at a loss for how it's possible."

How to explain the story to anyone? "I was turned into a monkey at birth."

She laughed and switched her scrutiny to my hair. "Lucky you. I suppose not all are fortunate enough to be born as monkeys."

"I was meant to be a human. This entire time. That… that oil, whatever you called it, stopped it. Is that what it does? Heal?"

Gigona nodded as she ran her paws through my hair. "Something like that. In the most romanticized term they say it brings truth forward. A lovely notion but I prefer people to just say what it does and be done with it."

"Where does it come from?" I should have been too surprised at the visit to get into a scientific discussion, but here I was, asking questions.

She locked eyes with me. "Oh, this and that. To be honest I really have no idea. Various materials distilled and put together. The not-so-magical secret of Takumin oil. I hear the recipe came from a fairy but I don't know how true that is. So do you like being a human?"

"…I'm not quite sure. I think so."

"I wouldn't be able to stand it. But if it works for you, I see no reason to not believe you." She continued picking through my hair and the conversation died.

It was very strange. I forced the next phrase. "I still don't know why you're here. I thought you were done looking for me. Is it so important I be taken to your father?"

"No one is looking for you anymore."

"But you—"

"Looking for you solely out of curiosity." Her sentence was terse and as soon as it was said she let go of my hair and dropped to the floor.

"But you need to go home to—"

"I will not be going home at this time."

"I don't underst—"

Gigona sighed deeply and curled herself into a sitting position. Just like how I used to sit. "I already told you I'm sorry for pushing you into the river. I didn't want my father to marry you."

"Yes, you said as much."

"In light of recent events, you had best be thankful I pushed you in. Otherwise, I doubt you would be alive at this point."

I gripped the bedcover in my hands. "What?"

"It was after we met again by the river. I was returning to the convoy, ready to report to Mirlifiche that you were no where to be found when I overheard one of the guards speaking to him about the return home and a few more things were said and…" She took a deep breath. "To make a long story short, he would have killed you. He was grateful you fell in the river. The search was a show, nothing more, and your disappearance was a stroke of pure luck."

I stared at her. I believed her completely. "And… and you?"

"I'm the Princess. I assumed I would be next. Get rid of everything that lies in the path to the throne. So I've spent days wandering around. It's a lot of fun."

"But your father. You can't stay away forever."

"I will return after Mirlifiche makes up some tragic story about my death, as I imagine he will do. I'd love to catch him in a bold face lie." She all but spat the last words.

Here I was, sympathizing with the very monkey who had tried to kill me. "Where will you stay?"

She didn't appear to have heard the question. "Why are you in this place?"

"The Queen… she wants to adopt me. Something like that."

"Convenient." She jumped back on the bed. "I suppose I can stay with you."


	17. In Which a Princess is Trained

Sleep came easily enough that night for both me and Gigona. The bed was comfortable beyond comfortable and I did like the idea of another monkey sleeping close to me as she had happily curled up next to my pillow as if she belonged there. She was more princess than I would ever be. I slept deeply and awoke to fresh morning light feeling as if I could take on the world. Gigona was already up, perched on the vanity and inspecting her fur in the mirror. Half-terrified Queen Patricia would send a flock of servants to dress me I took first look at my wardrobe. The beginnings of a proper closet was more clothes than I had ever seen in a lifetime.

Gigona only looked at the dresses with disdain. "Humans are so vain. So much effort in covering yourself."

"I grew up wearing clothes." I still didn't know what dresses would look good on me so I grabbed the first one I touched. Pale blue and not too frilly.

However, I was incapable of tying the dress' laces. How was I to know how complicated dresses could be?

Gigona laughed so much she fell from the vanity. "Strings!" she shrieked. "You keep on dresses with string!"

I twisted my arms behind my back as much as they would go. "I have never worn any such thing!"

"You picked it out."

"I didn't know!" A knot had formed under my clumsy hands. No wonder the queens had insisted on dressing me. They were protecting me, bless their hearts. And, oh, how I envied Gigona's quick little monkey hands. "Gigona, would you be so kind as to help me?"

"And tie myself up with it?" She shook her head. "I'm afraid you are on your own."

Keeping a monkey on the premises was going to be much more irritation than I had predicted. Useless little princess monkey.

Curses. I walked to the door and peeked into the hall. Not a soul. Why had no human warned me about such dresses and the necessity of servants?

"Hello?" I called, stepping out from my room. Never in my life had I remember Queen Flore in such an undignified situation.

No answer.

Maybe I should just go put on a different dress. Except with the knot of the lacings I didn't think I could get the dress off.

I took a deep breath. I was being ridiculous. I was the new princess of the palace, I was to be the adopted heir of Queen Patricia. And I was the famous Babiole, for heaven's sake! No matter how humiliated I was I was going to have grace and demand help. I started down the hall in a march I'm sure a proper princess would use.

I'm sure I looked just fine until my toes caught on the dress' hem and sent me stumbling into a wall.

At least it was loud enough to draw the attention of a servant, a tiny snippet of a girl who was hardly strong enough to pull my tangled body to my feet.

By dinner time everyone had heard about my dress fiasco. Not a servant said to my face, but I could hear them whispering about it. The best part was that I no longer felt humiliated about it. Perhaps it was the newness of my body but it were as if it were not me that had been caught in such a ridiculous manner. I bore the incident with pride. Yes, the new princess had certainly made a statement.

Queen Patricia wasn't nearly so amused. "You wait for a servant! Have you forgotten how to be nobility? That's the only explanation I can imagine, you silly, silly girl. Why do you think I hire servants? To stand around? Hardly."

Then, as if to punished me, she put me to work the rest of the day.

My childhood had been full of similar things. I had been an educated monkey, graceful, polite. One incident did not mean I was a clumsy bumpkin. Or maybe I couldn't blame that. Perhaps I was merely an innocent victim of Queen Patricia's lack of a daughter to whom she could teach everything I had already learned.

She introduced me to the library and showed me every book it held complete with a not-so-brief summary. She gave me a detailed tour of the entire grounds and made me repeat the histories until she was satisfied. Then, when daylight began to fade, she put me to work on all manners of grace as if I did not know them. I supposed my human body wasn't so wonderfully familiar, and there was a certain fascination in training my human body to do what my monkey body had known so well. It all came easier than I had expected.

At last I collapsed into bed, sickeningly tired, only to find Gigona perfectly relaxed after a day of sneaking around the palace.

When was Mirlifiche going to tell the tragic story of her death?

The following days were exactly the same way, minus a hallway tumble. The stricter the rules and lessons Queen Patricia forced upon me the happier she seemed.

"The people will love you," she said joyfully as she made me practice a waltz for the twentieth time. "You will be the princess they never had and I do think every kingdom needs a princess."

"I thought you were happy just being the queen," I said as I tried to remember the footwork. As a monkey I had never learned to waltz.

She gave the briefest of frowns before she laughed. "Oh, I was and I am. But you… you will be wonderful. As soon as you learn to dance properly."

I enjoyed the schooling most. My tutor was Marius, an old man who didn't seem to hear but seemed to know all things that had happened under the sun. I listened to every word he said and poured through every book he gave me.

Then one day it happened. I was in the middle of an archery lesson when Queen Patricia announced she would be presenting me to the entire kingdom. A ball in my honor.


	18. In Which Babiole Attends a Ball

"It's all official, then. You have thrown monkey life to the wayside and have fully embraced humanity." I had expected Gigona to speak with more nastiness, but her tone was completely observational.

I sighed as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The image of the human girl staring back at me was one I still had yet to fully accept as my own. Still, it was beautiful, that image. I lifted one of those too-large human hands and touched my hair. Weeks of hard training had rid me of a good chunk of my clumsiness. "It's who I am, I suppose. My goodness, there is so much involved!"

Gigona gave a dry laugh and hopped onto the vanity table to primp her fur, her eyes carefully studying the mirror. I felt almost envious. By monkey standards Gigona was probably gorgeous. What had been I, when I had been a monkey? "Indeed. The Queen had you captured for hours."

A light lunch and a hard two hours of dancing lessons had led into the most painful three hours of my life. I had been thrown into a tub, my skin scrubbed raw, my hair drenched. A smothering with towels had followed that. I barely had time to gasp for a breath before I was cinched into a rib-crushing dress and my hair yanked and tied to Queen Patricia's satisfaction. Even now my head ached and my neck could hardly handle the weight of the jewels around it.

"You do look lovely, though," Gigona continued.

"Thank-you." The past few weeks had cemented something a friendship between us and at last I could trust her to be sincere. If I could say so myself, I did feel pretty. The hairdressing had been undeniably ridiculous, but the results were stunning: a knot sprouting well-placed curls and ringlets, demurely decorated in flowers. The dress was pale pink, understated in its design. Yes, the lacings were too tight and there wasn't much to the neckline, but I still felt so detached from my body I might as well have been looking at someone else.

"So when are you going to the ball, then?"

Another sigh from me. Queen Patricia had declared it tasteless for the one of honor to appear on time to anything so grand as a ball. Which meant the festivities had been going on for at least twenty minutes. Supposedly a servant would come for me when Queen Patricia felt it right for me to appear. "I have no idea."

No concern from her. "We don't have anything like this in my father's kingdom. If you had remained a monkey and actually married my father, there would have been nothing."

I was so used to Queen Flore's parties that this shocked me. "Nothing?"

"Well, we play, we celebrate. But nothing so formal."

I tried to imagine what the monkey kingdom would be like. "Your kingdom… is it just… trees? What else is required in a monkey's habitat?"

"I despite that word. So stuffy. It's beautiful, really. The kingdom. There is a palace, there is a court. So many flowers and fruit trees…" Her voice faded.

"You miss it. Don't you?"

Gigona did not hesitate to nod. "I'll be honest, I'm getting bored of all this. I wonder if Mirlifiche has announced my death yet. I'm sure he has. It wouldn't behoove him to return and randomly hem and haw about me for weeks. I'll have to return, then."

"What would happen if you don't return?"

She looked up at me quizzically. "You mean if really were dead?" She gave a short laugh. "Without a son, I would be heir to the throne. If I were dead and my father failed to marry again—which is where he failed with you—well, I don't know."

"A grey area you hope Mirlifiche to take," I said.

She nodded. "So many things for him to bend. But this talk bores me. I'll leave soon and maybe I will find a way to let you know how things work out. Your ball is more interesting. I suppose I'll have to sneak in and watch it."

I laughed at that. "That's exactly the sort of thing I would do. I knew all the best hiding spots."

"Too bad we aren't at your other home, then. I know nothing of this place." She sighed and thumped her tail on the vanity table. "Are you allowed to leave yet?"

"The Queen said—"

"Yes, and we're still waiting."

I glanced at the closed door of my room. "Probably the servant died. One of them was looking rather sickly the other day. You think I should go?"

Gigona shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Though I was just fine submitting to Queen Patricia's rules I also wasn't used to be so ignored. Perhaps I had been forgotten about. Besides, twenty minutes was plenty of time to make a late and glorious entrance. I pushed open the door and stepped outside.

The hall was empty, all attention apparently focused on the ball. I felt fairly comfortable with navigating the palace. I would find Queen Patricia, remind her of my great entrance, and finally have my ball.

A ball in my honor. I still wasn't sure what to think of it. I had never been given a ball in my honor. Or anything in my honor. Monkeys just weren't worth that sort of thing.

I was only a turned corner or so from the ballroom when a voice rang out "Singette!"

Though I silently screamed at my feet to move, they froze right to the floor. Oh, heavens. Here of all places.

I finally glanced behind me to see Bastien running at me in a most undignified manner, like a puppy spotting a treat. "Singette! Lady Singette, I was wondering when you would show!"

"Prince Bastien." I was too stunned to put on a fake smile and I only hoped I didn't look too devastated. "You… you're here."

He nodded fervently and kissed my hand, which fell limply to my side as soon as he let go. "Yes, I am here. And I know this is not the proper way to be meeting you but I do know that many women find something clandestine to be romantic…" He blushed and bit down on his tongue. "I'm sorry. I have no right to be saying such things."

I did a strange mix of nodding and shaking my head. "I haven't even been introduced yet. There's protocol and procedure to such events as these. I don't exist yet until I have been formally introduced."

Bastien chuckled, though his blush remained. "You're quoting Queen Patricia, aren't you?"

I wanted to hit him. "But she's right! I was on my way… couldn't you have waited for me?"

"But I have waited so long to see you again that I just couldn't—" He put a hand over his own mouth and swallowed. "I am so sorry, my lady. I am being improper. Incredibly improper."

Not only did I still want to hit him, but I also wanted to laugh. A few months ago and this very behavior would have been hilarious. If another girl had been the subject. "Yes, you are."

"I was very… forward….when you were staying with my mother," he continued. "I did not behave as a prince should. I was a complete scoundrel."

"Your mother told you to say, that didn't she?" I almost slapped a hand over my own mouth.

He laughed nervously. "Why, yes, she did. I will admit that. But she is right. And here I am, doing it all over again. When we received the invitation to the ball I promised myself I would apologize but—"

"You're making it worse. But we? Queen Flore is here?" My heart jumped inside.

"Of course. She loves parties. And dancing with men half her age. That's precisely what she is doing now."

I clapped my hands together and laughed. "I must tell her hello. I'll—"

"Princess Singette!"

It was no servant come to collect me, but Queen Patricia herself, hustling toward me all red-faced, as red as her dress.

I smiled and gestured at Bastien. "I'm sorry, but I thought I had been forgotten about and—"

"Of course you haven't been forgotten, this is all for you." Queen Patricia gave a quick half-curtsey to Bastien before facing me. "I don't know what will become of you, my dear. Disappearing before your introduction. And this hair… well, we tried and I do hope it will be presentably fancy enough. The rest of you looks lovely. I only wish your parents were alive to see it."

I feigned mild sadness at my fake parents' deaths. "If only."

"As for you," she said to Bastien, "other kingdoms would behead you for such behavior and you had better be glad I like you. Come, Singette." She dragged me up a narrow flight of stairs and through a door into blinding light.

I was at the top of a grand staircase in the ballroom. Pink flowers covered every possible surface and the room was packed. I squinted to see the sea of faces beneath me.

Queen Patricia made her way to the edge of the staircase and waited until the room was silent. "Presenting," she said in a clear voice, "My adopted daughter and heir to my crown, Princess Singette."

The room broke into thunderous applause and I fought a sudden urge to go run to the monkey kingdom with Gigona. Instead I put on my best human smile and curtsied deeply. The applause only grew louder.

The next few minutes were a blur. I followed Queen Patricia through the crowd as she introduced me to dozens of names I would never remember. I curtsied until I thought I would be sick and my hand threatened to be permanently wet with kisses.

Then I was dancing. Music started up and all I could think of were the hours of dance lessons. I'm sure I was asked questions by my partners and I'm sure I answer them—and sufficiently, judging by what I was sure were smiles.

At last I found myself with a partner I recognized. Bastien. No doubt he had been waiting to dance with me.

"How is your night?" he asked me, the first question I comprehended.

I nodded. "It's… it's enchanting. Like being under a spell."

He laughed. "Such a romantic notion."

"No, really. It's like being under a spell. I can't even think."

He picked an up tempo to whirl me faster than I was prepared. "I believe that. My mother loves these things. They often cause headaches and someone always winds up so drunk they collapse in the middle of the floor."

"That will be me without drink." I silently told myself to stop it. I was mad at Bastien. I shouldn't be so conversational. I tried to ignore Bastien's following laugh.

"So declared a princess," Bastien said when I didn't respond to his laughter. "Not even born of royal blood. Hmm."

Yes, I was mad at him and this proved it. "I am noble!" I said.

His eyes went wide. "I didn't mean it like that. I was just considering it. It's a good thing."

I sighed. I did believe him. All right. Manners. "What brought you here?"

"The new princess? Queen Patricia probably invited us first. Most surrounding kingdoms are represented here. And I as I said I did want to apologize to you. I just try too hard sometimes to impress a lady as lovely as you."

Oh, he was ridiculous. Thank goodness the song changed then.

My next partner was Prince Something-or-other and he did not seem capable of speech. I forced myself to take the opportunity to take in the room and it was not long before I spotted Queen Flore. Seeing her was like going home again. I watched her until she looked away from her partner to connect with my gaze. She smiled.

When that song ended she was at my side to pull me away for refreshments.

"You look beautiful!" she declared at least three times as she touched my hair and dress. "To think a girl cast to the side of the road could clean up so well."

I smiled. I loved being adored by her. "It's all Queen Patricia's. I thought… well, I don't mean to speak bad of her, but I was afraid that she would put me in something she wears."

"I strongly advised her not to, so you have me to thank for it." She embraced me. "You're just a dream in this. No wonder no one can't keep their eyes off you."

I gave a small laugh.

"No, really." She put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You really don't understand how you look, do you? You're extremely beautiful. Uncommonly beautiful."

"Queen Flore, you don't need to flatter me."

"I'm not," she said sharply. "Which is why my idiot son can't keep away from you. I hope he apologized for his behavior."

"He did. He was quite gracious."

"Though the offer to marry him is still open. Of course…" She waved at the room. "There are many suitable men here for you and I daresay you have your pick of them. Any of them would be more than happy to have your hand in marriage."

Marriage? Again? "I don't think I'm ready to—"

I was cut off by the approach of greeters. A man and woman, apparently royal. And the woman was… my mother.

Queen Cerise smiled, but to me it was cold. All I could do was stare at her. And the man. King Achille. My father. He was short, not much taller than his wife, with a square black beard lined with grey. I couldn't decide if he were handsome or not. If he had known of me, would he have agreed to keep me?

At last I remember to curtsey. Both seemed pleased enough.

And that was it for our communication.


	19. In Which Fanferluche returns

I was not used to balls. At my old home I would sometimes observe all that interested me and then call it a night, or at least an opportunity to go off and doing something that had interested me. Later at night I could argue with Bastien about the whole ordeal—he always adamant at the wonder of the balls and me mocking him in his tragically innocent joy.

My current position as the star of the event helped none. A few hours in my feet ached and I could not breathe in the dress that had been strapped onto me. Not only did my physical self suffer but socially I was a failure with only the quiet victory of faking it. I could not remember a single name spoken to me.

They all remembered my name, of course. Or at least, Singette's name. So the new Princess Singette tried her best to be the bell of the ball. She was graceful, she was as lovely as a dream, she remembered most of all the social instruction Queen Patricia had driven into her. She walked and dances around like a doll and I retreated somewhere into the back of her mind where I could try not to scream and maybe keep myself awake while nobility after nobility led me around the room.

Goodness, but how late was it getting?

Queen Flore did her best to drag me into a corner for some well-deserved rest every now and then. Fortunately Bastien seemed to be satisfied with his apology and had found some other young ladies with whom to dance—that, or I was too exhausted to notice if he ever looked at me. Queen Flore was even able to save me from the presence of my parents.

Funny how I did not even want to look at them.

Then again, I did not want to look at anyone. The ball was after so long merely a mess of people, colors, and music. That, and a list of names I had no ability to remember. I was only too grateful when the crowded room lessened and others began to show the appearances of ready-for-bed attitudes. I did my best to keep up my now-pasted smile and talk pleasantly to all my well-wishers. Yes, bedtime was fast approaching though not nearly fast enough for me.

Then, when it seemed that the end of the ball was in sight and everyone would leave, a surprise guest made her appearance.

And quite dramatically, I might add. Like something out of a story what could only be called magic happened. A burst of light sent those in the middle of the ballroom scattering and screaming, and the dimming candles were completely blown out. But just as quickly the light was gone, leaving only darkness and terrified murmuring.

At that moment I was hardly the belle of the ball but just another dancer forced against the bodies of others. There was a hand at my wrist, gently squeezing.

"Are you all right?"

I wanted to jerk my hand away. Was it Bastien? I couldn't be sure.

Just as a few candles were lit, a radiant purple glow brightened from the room's center. There stood a woman. Her hair was silver, her exquisite dress as purple as her light, and her eyes the brightest blue I had ever seen.

I tried to find Queen Patricia, but it was impossible to see anyone.

"Stay right here," the voice at my side said. Definitely not Bastien. Definitely not someone who was going to move to demand anything of the woman.

The woman in question seemed hardly perturbed at the commotion her appearance had caused. She tilted her head to the side to get a better look at us all, then laughed, her voice tinkling like bells. Then she stepped forward with a very wide stride and made her way to me. The crowd parted like water for her.

She was only a few feet from me when I was struck my some memory of familiarity. But before I could pull out a name she had spoken, with a deep curtsey,

"Fanferluche, my dear. At your service."

I felt light-headed, and my side companion had better be prepared to catch me.

My fairy godmother was here.

But that was impossible. She wasn't supposed to be real. She was a momentary hallucination by the stream. And much smaller, besides. Then again, I was not my usual size.

Fanferluche turned to address the crowd, her smile growing by the second. She snapped her fingers, and every candle blazed into light. I had to shut my eyes against the sudden light. "Forgive me for startling you all, but we of faye kind do have a flair for the dramatic, I suppose."

More terrified whisperings.

My fairy godmother laughed. "Thank-you for allowing me to honor this ball with my presence. You see, it is impossible that I would stay away when my dearest of goddaughters has been adopted to be a princess!" A tear appeared in her eye, then she threw her arms around me in a shocking embrace. Just as quickly it was over.

Queen Patricia was next on her greeting. Fanferluche was just as gracious, though it was impossible for me to make any sense of the horror and shock on her face.

"You're… you're quite welcome," she finally stammered out. "I had no idea of your existence. My adopted daughter never mentioned you. Singette was orphaned."

"I know," Fanferluche said airly. "So tragic. And yet she has done so wonderfully for herself and you are the only one we can thank for that, Queen Patricia."

I finally took a moment to observe the man at my side. At first glance he was quite ordinary, the type that would most certainly get lost in a crowd. He was good-looking, in a non-descript way, perfectly average in build. His hair was a pleasant brown and the shape of his face was good, though. Had I danced with him? It was hard to say.

But before we could speak to each other, I was once again the object of the fairy's attention. Her smile was like sugar.

"Singette." She said her name with a snap of her teeth, and I realized in horror she knew me as Babiole. "Singette. A name so lovely indeed as your face." She laughed and gave me another hug. "I'll be offering you a gift in front of your guests, be prepared," she whispered.

Gift?

"Several years ago," Fanferluche said in her booming voice "I came to this girl with an offer of a gift. I never forget my godchildren. She had nothing to request then. I feel that makes her all the more the gem of a girl that she is. However, on the night she is declared a princess, I feel I must offer her a gift again. Anything she wants."

Every eye in the room was on me. I could say nothing. I couldn't think of anything.

Fanferluche smiled encouragingly.

I took a deep breath. "I'm afraid there is still nothing for which I lack. I am beyond grateful for all that has happened in my life."

Applause. My new potential subjects appreciated that.

"Well," Fanferluche said. "Once again, call me at any time if you ever need anything."

"I need something!"

Queen Cerise pushed her way through the crowd and I realized I had hoped she and my father had left. Her eyes blazed with fury and her face glistened with sweat and what I realized to be tears. "I need something from you!"

What was one to do when a queen was ruining a princess' moments?

Fanferluche was not the least bit fazed. In fact, she didn't look at all surprised to see her. "Ah, Cerise." There was no curtsey. "I haven't seen you in years. How are you? Things going well?"

"You're a monster!" Cerise shouted. "A monster!"

The crowd was silent.

Fanferluche only gave me the briefest of glances. "I take it this is about your infant daughter?"

"You could have saved her?" King Achille was at his wife's side now, his own expression one of horror. "Our daughter… you could have saved her?"

"I'm afraid, Your Majesty, I am unable to save people. What happened to your daughter was out of my hands."

"You could have prevented her death?" King Achille demanded.

"Death?" Fanferluche's laugh was hardly appropriate—especially when I realized the subject was once again me. "Her death is out of my hands, I'm afraid."

Cerise tore herself away from her husband and launched herself at the fairy.

Even with the little I knew of fairies I knew that to be a bad idea.

Cerise may have had sharp nails and all the fury of a heart-broken mother, but Fanferluche was a fairy. The crowd made all sorts of exclamations and out of the corner of my eye I saw Queen Patricia collapse into a dead faint.

There was another blast of light, at least a dozen times stronger than before. The lights once again went out, someone fell against me, and pure madness ensued.

I don't know if it were minutes or seconds before light returned. Fanferluche was gone and the ballroom was in chaos. Instruments lay about as did people. Guests helped each other up.

I realized I was not on the ground. I was half-way up a marble pillar, my skirt torn partially in half—no doubt by my crazy shimmy to what I must have considered to be safety. The faint memory came forward of me, panicked, reacting, Like a monkey.

I jumped down, but it was too late to avoid some stares. Thank goodness most of the crowd was far too preoccupied with other things.

The brown-haired man watched me the longest. "How.. acrobatic of you."

I blushed. "I… was frightened. I used to climb trees."

"Clearly," he said weakly. Then he forced a laugh of his own. "To think this future queen has such talents. Perhaps you should lead armies."

"I would only run away from them."

We both laughed weakly. This apparently was not the time for jokes.

"Pierre," he said, taking my hand. "I suppose I can introduce myself better at a later time, but my name is Lord Pierre of Cherfore."

"Did we dance?"

"I meant to ask you, but this happened…"

Another scream broke out, a man's.

That's when I saw her. My mother, Queen Cerise, lying on the floor motionless.


	20. In Which There is an In Between Moment

I was immediately ushered back to my room. No sense, I supposed, for the new princess to see any thing so violent. Indeed, I was shaking horribly, so much that I think a servant could have told me where to go, given me a small shove in the right direction, and I would have eventually made it to my room. As it was one of Patricia's personal guards escorted me, carefully sat me down in a chair, and left.

I didn't even know what to think. Every moment since I had seen Queen Cerise lying on the floor was only half-memorable, events and time blurring together in a mess. Every guest had been in shock and panic, ladies had fainted, and somehow I had been brought to my room without an inkling of what was going on.

As a monkey I would have never received such attention.

I collapsed forward in my chair, my head between my knees as it spun. I had never seen anyone dead before her! If she were dead. Was that the situation? Why was I not being told? The woman was my birth mother, for goodness' sake!

I did not even look up as Gigona scampered into the room, the excitement of the night well-written on her face. "Now that was a ball!"

Now she deserved my attention. I stared at her in amazement.

She pounded onto the bed and drew her tail around her in defense. "Well, it was. Do these types of things commonly happen at human balls? Monkey festivities never have anything of the sort."

"Nothing ever happened at any ball I ever attended," I said breathlessly. My head dropped back between my knees.

"A fairy," Gigona said with obvious impression. "To think a fairy would bother to show herself at a human ball. I'm well aware they like to make themselves as fairy godmothers and other meddlesome things, but this! To think she would show up and kill someone like that. Amazing."

"We don't know if Queen Cerise is dead. I didn't get to see much more of the scene."

"Dead, injured, it's all the same thing." Gigona began to clean her fur. "At least, as far as interest goes." Then she gasped. "Wait… that wasn't… your mother, was it?"

I nodded without looking up.

"Oh, goodness. I'm sorry, Babiole. I really am. I didn't make the connection. Do you like her very much?"

"We've only met twice." Truth be told, I don't think I felt particularly upset over the fact it was my mother—other than a strange sense of privilege to the details which according to everyone else I had certainly not earned. I hadn't much liked her either time. "It's more the blood that terrified me. The action. It's completely out of human cultural norm to attack someone at a ball."

"I was hiding in the rafters," Gigona explained. "It seems that human queen, your mother, attacked first."

That was quite true. I nodded.

"Why?"

"I…" I did not know what to say. I thought over all that had been said. "When I was born, they announced to everyone that I had died at birth. Which I suppose is understandable when your child is a monkey."

For a long time neither of us spoke. I sat with my head in my hands and Gigona remained on the bed, completely silent.

"When you told me that whole story," she said at last, "You mentioned a hemlock branch."

"Yes."

"You were turned into a monkey when your mother touched you with the hemlock branch, correct?"

I had largely forgotten about that. "Do you think it came from Fanferluche?"

"Anything's possible. It would explain why Cerise was so furious at Fanferluche."

I sat up. Goodness, but that was far too much to think about. "Why on earth would my fairy godmother give my mother a branch that would turn me into a monkey?"

"I can think of worse fates," replied Gigona.

A knock sounded at the door, and Gigona dove under the bed. I took a deep breath. "Come in!"

It was Patricia.

I don't know why I was so relieved, but I was. I jumped to my feet and threw my arms around her. That was when the tears came. I still wasn't sure what they meant. I just wanted to cry and cry. And she let me. That was the best part. She put her arms around me, clucked something under her breath, and let me cry.

Though as soon as I regained my composure, she spoke again. "Queen Cerise will recover, my dear."

I sniffed and wiped my eyes with my hand. Not particularly ladylike, but I wasn't sure what else to do at the moment. "She's not dead."

"Hardly. Though a fall like hers certainly did put out a lot of blood. But it was all must a minor scratch. She was even talking. She says the fairy didn't strike her, though she really doesn't remember the details of all that happened."

"That's good."

Patricia straightened the dress I had crumpled with my tears. "Foolish woman, though. If she had been greatly injured if would have been her fault entirely. She's a guest at this palace. A guest! Singette, if you intend to run a proper palace you must keep in mind decorum. A visiting dignitary should already know decorum. As a guest you must respect the other guests of your hosts and Queen Cerise did not!"

"I don't know if my fairy godmother was a guest."

Patricia made a face and waved the phrase away. "She's your fairy godmother and it was truly a delight that she made an appearance. At your ball, of all things. It's truly wonderful, something out of a story. Of course I was going to make sure she was comfortable. At least I was until Cerise exploded as she did. I never did like that woman or her silly husband. And even if we cast away all the notions of propriety and decorum one should be smart enough not to attack a fairy!" She shook her head furiously.

I managed a laugh that surprised even me. To think I was in a laughing mood!

"But you, dear," Patricia continued. "You are the one I'm worried about. I had decided this was going to be the perfect night for you. I had everything planned just so! I can't believe it was ruined."

"It wasn't ruined. It was a lovely night. I can't thank you enough for it. Besides, now that I know Queen Cerise will be all right, I prefer to think of it all as exciting. Quite novel for a ball, if you think about it in the right way."

Patricia seemed surprised that, but smiled. " You're right. I don't think anyone else has ever had such an incident in the ball. It will be talked of for months. Well…" She gave me another small hug. "I do need to assure your guests you are fine. Assuming you are fine."

"Just a little tired," I said with a smile. "I think I'll be going to bed."

"I'll be sure to thank them all on your behalf. At least I can assure those young men of your well-being."

"Young men?"

She opened the door, preparing to leave. "Oh, quite a few are very taken with you, Singette. Prince Bastien is still ridiculously obsessed with you, but I also have worries from Lord Pierre."

The young man who had watched me climb a pillar. I blushed.

"They'll both be thrilled to hear you are doing well."


	21. In Which Emotions Come Up

"Your two human lovers disgust me." Gigona did not have the words to spout off truly creative insults, but she did have a way about her of saying just what was on her mind.

Over a week had passed since the ball. The horror of Cerise's fall had spread like wildfire legend throughout the kingdom and at that point I did not know what was the gossiped nature of the ball. The last whisper I heard, being mocked of among the servants, was that fourteen evil fairies had murdered every soul of royal blood in the ballroom. It was a rather amusing thought. Yes, Queen Patricia's prediction of the infamous ball would certainly become true.

I sat at my mirror, morning sun streaming through the window as I brushed my hair. Fascination over hair brushing had recently overcome me and it was all I could do to keep myself from brushing it all out—and I did not need Patricia lecturing me about that. "You've barely seen them, Gigona."

"Barely still means some," she replied nonchalantly. "They're lingering about, treasured and spoiled guests of that queen lady. They're like wild dogs, only the pathetic kind."

"Wild dogs? How can wild dogs be pathetic?"

Her reflection was clear in the mirror. She thought I was an idiot. "My dear Babiole, you have never actually seen a wild dog, have you?"

No one had ever come near the palace. Or near any kingdom I had seen. I shook my head.

"Then you are in no place to comment on the nature of wild dogs."

"But am I the place to comment on the nature of men? Human men?" I set my brush on the dresser and turned to lock eyes with her. It was a very monkey thing to do, the way I looked at her, and I did not feel anything like a supposedly superior human.

She sat up, tail twitching, happily responding to my stare. "No, I don't think you are."

That did get to me. I sat back and blinked. "At least I am a human."

Gigona just rolled her little monkey eyes. "For a matter of months. I don't see how that makes you an expert in anything human related."

"I'm sure I'm doing a much better job of it than you would."

She laughed. "If only I had a fairy godmother that would turn me into a human. I'm quite certain I would prove you wrong on that very thing."

"I can think of nothing more frightening than a human version of you."

She considered that. "You're probably right."

"As for me…" I picked up my hairbrush, wielding it like a great scepter. "I was born a human. I was raised with humans. I know humans better than I know monkeys as I'm sure anyone will testify. And, for your further information, I read several books that did mention the manner of wild dogs."

"Bah. Books written by humans."

I let the brush clatter to the floor and hoped it didn't chip. It had been a recent gift from Queen Patricia. "Then I think a monkey should write a book, if they know better."

"Teach me how to write and I will. You'll have it published for me, won't you?"

"I promise."

"And I will collect all royalties from it?"

I purposely pondered that for a long moment until Gigona's face twisted up in fury.

"It is my book, after all!" she declared unhappily. "I will be doing all the work."

"And what of my tutorship and work?" I asked.

She sighed and flopped back down onto the bed. "I suppose I can give you something for your efforts as apparently my charming and solid friendship will not be enough."

"I just can't imagine what a monkey like you will be doing with all that money."

She shrugged. "It's pretty. It looks nice. We like the way it sparkles in the sun. Wouldn't you say those are just as good of reasons as anything else? You're a princess now. Don't you get to go bathe in cold coins or some other sort of weird nonsense?"

I really hadn't thought much about it. I supposed that, as a Queen, Patricia had plenty of resources including gold and jewels and all the usual. I suppose that as her new heir I had some access to them. In fact, I could probably snap my awkward human fingers and have anything I wanted. "All right. You can have all the gold coins you want. From your book."

"I'll bring them back with me, then."

The question caught me off-guard. "Back?"

"Home." She sat up, her tail once again twitching like mad. "I'm getting homesick, believe it or not."

I stood up and went to sit at the edge of the bed. Part of mind insisted that it was strange that a big clumsy human was talking to a little monkey, but it still felt quite natural. Part of me still wanted to be the same size as her. "You've been living in this big fancy palace for weeks upon weeks. How could you possibly be homesick?"

"I don't think I can take much more of all this hiding and sneaking around so that Queen's servants don't throw me out. It gets old, after a while."

"If you get caught, I'll just say you're my pet! They'll have to let me keep a pet."

The look Gigona shot me was worthy of being knives. "I am hardly your pet."

It was an odd feeling. I really did not want her to leave. "But what about Merlifiche?"

"I'm almost positive he has announced my death or whatever excuse he picked by now. I will be just fine. All that is left is to discover how he'll pay for what he has done."

"When are you leaving?"

She clearly had not thought of that detail. "Soon, I suppose. I'll leave you here to deal with your two human suitors."

And with that we were back to that topic.

I also realized I hadn't given either of them much thought. Bastien was now some wart I wished would go away and Pierre… well, that was merely humiliating. They had insisted on remaining to keep an eye on me after the events of the ball, but I had barely given either of them a glance. Should I be paying attention to them? The reason of why they were hanging around was not lost on me—I knew entirely too well just how fond of Singette Bastien was and this Lord Pierre did not seem to differ too much in his thoughts. Had I been avoiding them on purpose? I didn't like to think so. But it could be possible.

"How am I supposed to deal with them?" I asked with a blatant sigh.

"Babiole, I have yet to be offered to some handsome and rich ape, but from what I understand you are required to do nothing. If they want to marry you they will speak with your Queen Patricia and a wedding will be held if you agree. It's pretty much how we came for you to become my father's new wife."

"They already tried to make me marry Bastien, if you remember."

"I suppose he is handsome, for a human." There was a note of disgust in Gigona's voice as if she could not think of any marriage partner more dreadful than a human. "But you said no to that, I thought. So why is he still hanging around?"

I sighed again. "I have known Bastien for pretty much my entire life. He thinks he can have whatever he wants if he is patient and vigilant enough. Which means he would be hanging around this kingdom for the rest of my life."

"So marry the other one. The one that watched you being all monkey-like on the pillar."

"For all I know, he's just hanging about in hopes of seeing me doing something else that is equally stupid."

"The ability to climb is a useful one, though."

I nodded. "I kind of miss it."

"But that's not what we should be talking about." She sprang to sit on my chest and stared at me with surprisingly bright eyes. "You really cannot be hiding in here hoping they go away. I insist you go talk to them."

As much as I hated to admit it, she was absolutely right. I figured I looked as nice as anything and as apparently I was some great beauty by human standards what I wore did not matter. It was blue and that was all I comprehended.

Bastien and Pierre were playing, of all things, chess. That I did not understand. I did not know enough about Pierre to determine if he actually liked chess, but I knew perfectly well that Bastien did not. The game must be one of those standard rules of behavior when there was nothing else interesting to do. As it was, both men were enveloped enough in the game to not even notice as I entered the patio. I leaned over Bastien's shoulder. He was black.

"You had best move your king," I said. "A check is not far out of the way."

Pierre looked up at me in surprise. He looked no more distinguishable than he had before, but I did like the way his face looked. "Princess!" He rose to his feet for a graceful bow, but not before moving a bishop. "You may have warned him, but I still have him in a reasonable trap."

By that time Bastien was also standing and bowing. "I'm sorry. We did not hear you come in."

It felt strange that Bastien would be bowing to me. For all he knew, I was just some little orphan from the roads when we met.

"I meant to surprise you both," I said. "And forgive me for influencing your game. Though perhaps Prince Bastien doesn't mind as much. From what I recall you don't even like chess."

He nodded, almost in relief, before giving me a rather strange look. "How did you know that?"

Oops. I decided not to reveal my mistake. "You babbled on about it once at your mother's palace. I actually was listening."

He seemed to accept that and returned his attention to the chess board. He still towered over it, and the effect was rather awkward. He was just too tall for the chess board. "You can spot a trap, Princess Singette, so perhaps I can enlist your help again."

I had to admit that I was pretty good at chess, though I wasn't sure how much I wanted to help Bastien again. Oh, well. I slid into his seat—Lord Pierre had already sat back down. I flashed him the most winning smile I hoped I could give. "Lord Pierre, would you mind entirely if I played a few moves for Prince Bastien?"

His round face lit up more than I thought possible. He apparently loved the idea. "I would be most delighted, Princess. It would be an honor."

I studied the board. Yes, Pierre definitely had the advantage, leaving me with the moral decision of whether or not I should play my all on behalf of Bastien or let fate do what it will and let Pierre win. I moved a pawn and glanced at Bastien out of the corner of my eye. He seemed rather elated, so he obviously had no idea what I was doing.

Pierre moved a knight, and I moved a knight as well. Around that time I wondered if I should get around to moving the aforementioned king. Pierre wasn't that close to winning. Next move, then.

He moved, and I finally moved the king.

Two moves later and I was in check. Checkmate followed and that was that.

I looked up at Bastien apologetically. "Sorry."

He frowned, but it was a forced frown. "Did you really try to win for me?"

"Well…." The truth was that I probably could have moved the king to a better position than I had. "Lord Pierre is a very talented chess player."

Lord Pierre did look modestly pleased with himself. "I practice it only incidently," he insisted. "But I would love to play again."

"With Prince Bastien or myself?" I glanced again at Bastien, trying to read his face. He tried his best to keep it passive, but I could detect a hint of jealousy. Oh, brother. I lose him one game of chess and he already wanted all other men away from me.

When I glanced back, Lord Pierre had his eyes on me—only for a moment, then they dropped, almost about of embarrassment. "You had to play with what he had left. I would rather play with you."

"All right," I answered slowly. "Then I will go about my business and you two can return to playing against each other."

"No!" they both said in unison.

"We will find some other activity after your game," Bastien said quickly. "One… all three of us can participate in. We can go hunting or something. Take a walk. Archery."

"Archery?" I repeated. I had never actually done anything with archery. Something about my monkey body being too small to hold a bow or some other practical nonsense.

"I do like archery," Pierre said as he set up the board for us. "You will be white, Princess. It's only fair."

I smiled. Pierre was polite, though I was still waiting for him to bring up my moment of climbing. When the board was ready, I made my first move.

"I would be more than happy to teach Princess Singette the art of archery," Bastien put in.

"Is archery an art?" I asked.

"It certainly is. It is part of the great art of hunting. I'm very good at it and I'll be happy to teach you everything I know."

Archery did seem to make him happy. "And what makes you think you need to teach me anything at all about archery?"

Pierre laughed, surprisingly loudly, and Bastien's face went bright red.

"I'm sorry," Bastien said with a stammer. "I… didn't think you might already know."

I took Pierre's rook. "I don't and I will be more happy for you to teach me than you will, I promise."

That statement, at least, made him happy.

Pierre won the chess game. He was quite good.


	22. In Which Proposals Arise

Pierre may have been an expert at chess, but archery turned out to be another matter for him entirely.

Patricia herself had been a skilled archer back in the day and the remains of her little hobby still remained. Fine bows made of from trees that were probably now fighting for survival but were strong. Hundreds of arrows made by the most talented craftsman for kingdoms around. Even so, Bastien did not look all that impressed by examined the bows and arrows with the snobbiest of airs before finally choosing a large bow with a defeated sigh.

"Not to your liking?" I asked. I was sort of hoping he would be expert enough to pick one for me. I truly had no idea how to go about this.

He did not appear apologetic and accepted my comment as another attitude against the equipment. "I prefer my own."

"Did you not bring them?" Pierre asked.

"I thought I was attending a ball," Bastien replied, now rummaging through the arrows with even more disdain. "I thought I would dance around, smile at our Princess, and leave the following day. In what fantasy would I be needing my bow and quiver at a ball?"

"You sure seemed to have brought a lot of clothing," Pierre remarked.

Surprised, I looked at Bastien. He wasn't the type to worry much about something as pitiful as clothing. Now apparently he had brought his entire wardrobe—in my imagination—leaving me to hunt for the tell-tale signs of a blush. And I was not disappointed.

"There was a mistake in packing," Bastien said. "And communication. But it's just as well because now I am here."

I considered demanding why.

Unfortunately, Pierre beat me to it. "What prompted the extended visit?"

The question was just as loaded as it would have been had it come from me. This was either an oft-repeated question or one that had been simmering beneath Pierre's voice for days.

Bastien gave a deep sigh and loaded his arrow despite the fact that we were no where near the target. "I suppose I should make my intentions clear." He fired into a tree, sending a few leaves tumbling to the ground. "Princess Singette, I have every intention of courting you."

No surprise there. Was he not a bit too late?

The surprise was his behavior. My Bastien would have prostrated himself on the ground to declare his undying love (that would last until the next pretty girl). Not nonchalantly speak as it were nothing but Pierre's clothing as he fired arrows.

Still, I remained gracious. "I figured as much.

Pierre made a noise somewhere between a mouse's squeak and a wolf's howl and both Bastien and I turned to stare at him. But by the time our eyes were on him it was too late. He was placid again, his face all smiles as he bowed humbly. To me.

"I suppose there should be some embarrassment, Princess, in speaking second, but I cannot deny what my heart feels. I was enchanted by you the first time I laid eyes upon you. I also intend to court you."

I had figured as much with him, but this time I curtsied. "I am honored. I thank-you. Both."

They both beamed as if I had announced each of them my husband. In its way, it was all a lot more fun that my last proposal.

"I have already spoken my intentions to the Queen," Pierre said.

Oh, but he was well-mannered. And more sincerely than Bastien. I liked that.

"So have I," piped up Bastien.

I laughed as coquettishly as I could—I hoped it would make Patricia proud. "I could not be more delighted. One ball and I already have two suitors. I am so flattered." I attempted to pick up one of the smaller bows and realized I had no idea how to go about it.

Both of my suitors rushed to my aid.

Pierre was first. "Here, Princess, you hold it like…" His voice trailed off as he and I both realized he wasn't positive on the most proper handling of the bow. "Like this."

It did look more of less correct, though I still felt clumsy with it.

Bastien snorted under his breath.

Such derision. He was such a jerk.

So I smiled at Pierre. "Thanks. It looks right." Then I waited for Bastien to come over to me and show me the ideal way to hold it.

He did not.

So we made our way to the targets. When we arrived I realized just how silly the entire concept of archery was. There was no hunting, no goal other than a bale of hay with colored fabric strapped over it. No wonder Queen Flore had spared me from this little nicety of court life.

"That's it?" I asked, gesturing way down the range. "We're going to just stand here on the grass and shook at hay bales?"

Bastien nodded happily. "Yes, that's exactly it. I have trouble believing you had never done this before. Not in your old life, once?"

"It's not so strange," said Pierre. "My family has never been terribly fond of the sport, especially since my sister accidentally shot my father in the—"

"The trick is aiming," Bastien interrupted. "You can hold the bow as prettily as you want to, Princess Singette, but a great marksman puts his effort into shooting."

"Her efforts?" I partially echoed.

Both men laughed and I grinned.

"Yes," Bastien said. "Her efforts. I'm sure you can do an excellent job. Just look at yourself. So lovely, so lithe, so strong. You have the body of an archer."

"Me? Really?" It was a strange thing to hear just after reclaiming my human body.

"And what exactly is the body of an archer?" Pierre asked with loaded curiosity. If he didn't seem so nice, I wouldn't be surprised if he just went off and punched Bastien, now that their mutual interest in me was out in the open.

"Apparently mine." I lifted by bow just as Pierre had shown me and waited for further instructions from Bastien while wondering why I cared. "Pierre, is this right?"

"I think so. Yes, yes, that's is good. Now I'll go first. Just watch." Pierre loaded his own bow, aimed, and fired. The arrow took a respectable curve right into the sky and plummeted down not five feet from us.

Bastien burst out laughing.

Pierre's face was bright red. Poor dear.

"Prince Bastien!" I exclaimed, whirling around to face him. "Please show some decorum!"

He reacted as if I had slapped him. "I'm… I'm sorry, Princess. Lord Pierre, I meant no disrespect."

"Oh, it was just fine. Just a slip of the bowstring. I should have laughed, too. Definitely funny." Pierre forced a laugh. "Perhaps someone else would like to go? Princess Singette?"

And here my awkward human self would attempt to get an arrow to zoom across space and somehow end up where I wanted it to end up. "Any other tips?" I tried to notch the arrow and failed.

Bastien muttered something under his breath and I wondered how attractive I appeared to him now. "You really have never done this before, have you?"

I nodded. "Did you not believe me?"

"Well, I was thinking you were merely stretching the truth. But now I can see you're just terrible at this."

I frowned. "Then at least tell me what I should be doing. If you plan on trying to marry me, you should be a little more helpful."

That got his attention. In seconds he was at my side, practically taking the bow away from me, and in a few minutes I more-or-less understood how to fire an arrow.

My first attempt sailed about fifteen feet before landing gracefully in the grass.

I was ecstatic. "It worked!" I yelled, pointing at the solitary arrow. "I got it to fly!"

Both men applauded me, which was really quite sweet on their parts.

"Next time we will work on getting it to the target," Bastien said, taking his turn.

His arrow landed dead center. He was very good.

Pierre's turn. "I really should have practiced more at archery." He fired. The arrow barely missed the target.

It was his finest work of the game.

My skill, though vastly improving on its own over the course of the hour, still never did amount to much more than Pierre's, but at least I was able to actually hit the target once or twice, screaming in delight every time I did, an action that I did not know if my suitors found adorable or annoying. But archery was exciting, and I liked the way my arms felt as the bow contracted after an arrow left it.

"We should play it again," I said as we walked back to the palace. "It's a wonderful game, so much fun!"

"I think we might want to allow Lord Pierre to rest his arms," Bastien said.

Indeed, Pierre was rubbing his arms and a grimace of pain was on his face. But he still smiled. It was a very nice smile, I had decided. "I will be happy to do whatever you would like, Princess. Anything at all. Climbing, perhaps."

Bastien laughed while I froze in my steps, trying to keep back the look of pure horror that I felt.

"Singette does love climbing," Bastien said. "She climbs trees. Have you ever known a girl to enjoy climbing trees?"

My next glance at Pierre flooded me with relief. What was I worried about? So he had seen me climb a pillar. I liked climbing trees. All was explained and all was well.

"So… our next activity is to be climbing trees?" he asked innocently.

I looked down at my dress. Patricia would strangle me with her own two hands if I ripped it up. "Maybe not just this minute."

Pierre looked relieved, but Bastien looked just the slightest bit disappointed.

I found myself waiting for one of them to make a suggestion but the result was just a long stretch of awkward silence. "I'm so sorry, being a princess and having suitors are both terribly new to me and I'm really not sure what we should be doing."

"I've never been a suitor before myself," said Pierre.

I looked at Bastien. "I understand you are very fond of women. When you court them, what do they like to do?

Though I expected discomfort from him, Bastien took it with merely a laugh. "They like going for walks. Oh, but they love walks. And looking at things. It gets old very fast."

I laughed against my will. "All right, then. No walks."

"Unless you want to take them, of course."

"I'll be sure to let you know."

We had arrived at the palace without a thing to do. We returned to the chess board for more awkward silence.

Two suitors. Two of them. I had no idea what to do with them. I didn't want to marry Bastien and I was still trying to get to know Pierre.

Why had Patricia not given me advice on this?

"I'm tired now," I said. "I think I'll go take a nap."


	23. In Which More Proposals Arise

I did not take a nap. I had not taken naps in years and I had no intention of starting at that time. All I did was make a quick beeline to my bedroom and locked the door behind me. For all I knew Pierre's pleasant quieteness masked a prying thief and Bastien would go against his nature and come in after me. So as soon as the door was locked I stepped back and stared it, wondering just which of them would be the first to break it down.

My goodness, but I was becoming a bit paranoid.

"I take it things did not go well?" Gigona asked from the windowsill.

I sighed and turned to face her. "I have decided that much of this courtship thing is dull."

"You haven't picked one?"

"Pick one?" I echoed. "Oh, but I have no desire to pick either one of them."

"I see." She hopped onto the bed and I suddenly wished I was back to being a monkey when life seemed so comparably simpler. Though I knew perfectly well nothing could be further from the truth. "So you despise both of them."

"No, they're both fine."

"Even Bastien?"

"He is fine. He is just like he always has been, which means that nothing is wrong with him and he is every definition of fine. All is well with him." I sighed again and put a hand to my head. "Gigona, have you ever been courted?"

"By a human?" She laughed her pretty little monkey laugh.

"No, that's just silly." She was not going to get a grin out of me. "By another monkey, I mean. One of your kind."

She shook her head and took a moment to preen her tail. "Not yet. With my father still looking to get married it seems my own marriage prospects are far from the focus of things. You would think that Mirlifiche would be a little more interested in just marrying me to take up the throne but I don't think he thinks that way. Or I disgust him. One of the two." She seemed delighted by the idea that she disgusted him.

And she had to bring up that monster. "You're still going to leave soon?"

She nodded. "Don't worry, you will be the first to know."

That was a blessing. I was grateful to be sure of something.

"So why did you lock the door?" she asked.

"I really don't know." I looked back at the door. No sign nor sound of it jiggling yet. "I'm afraid one of them might try to follow me."  
"That sounds terrifying. Are you truly afraid of that?"

"Well…."

"Because I would never allow myself to be courted by strange men who would be so rude as to follow me to my room."

"I don't really think that either of them would try—"

"Because I can't think of anything more terrifying."

"Gigona, I—"

"Where are they? If they are trying to follow you and I will find them and bite off their fingers and they will regret all of it and it will be a horrifically bloody mess and we will have yet another kingdom terrified of monkeys."

All right, so I was being ridiculous. I unlocked the door. "There. Happy?"

She didn't look it. "Now it seems they can just get in."

I slumped down into the chair. And to think I had come here for a little rest and respite. "I am still rather new to the concept of being courted!"

"Obviously. So have Queen Patricia pick one for you."

That was a novel idea and I considered it. "No, it wouldn't work. I would ask her to do that and she would simply turn the duty back on me. She's a queen and she loves it. No proper and self-respecting queen would allow someone to pick a suitor for her."

"I suppose I'll just have to pick one for you, then," Gigona said with a sigh.

I stared at her and tried not to laugh. "I think that still goes against Queen Patricia's beliefs."

"Yes, but this is me, your dear friend and almost-stepdaughter Gigona. I'll know exactly which one you should marry."

"I don't think I want to marry either of them."

"Then why on earth did you allow yourself to be brought to this palace?"

I looked her square in her eyes before I responded. "Because it was something to do. It had absolutely nothing to do with myself getting married. Because I could become a princess and learn and not to have to look at Bastien all the time. Because I like Queen Patricia and she is nice to me and because apparently a river fish king told her to take me here."

That did appear to catch her off-guard. "Well, as long as you have a reason, I suppose. Though I'm still not sure what the river king would make such a command. Though according to what you said, you do not want to marry Bastien. So I shall have to investigate this Lord Pierre a little closer. If he still likes you after witnessing you attempting to climb a pillar he can't be all bad."

I smiled. "All right, then, you can examine him all you want."

She pushed open the window and disappeared.

I did not see her for the rest of the day. As for myself, I was bored. There was little to do in my room except stare at my human reflection and wonder just what these men saw in it. I should have brought books there. Queen Patricia had a magnificent library with a fine collection of histories and sciences but I had never considered the possibility of bringing any to my quarters. Of course I could probably just leave my room and go to the library but that would risk having to lie about missing my nap. Which at this point was taking all day. Which would suggest that Bastien and Pierre could assume that my nap was finished. But at that point it was far too much explanation running through my head.

At last it was time for supper and I crept like a guilty child from my room and into the dining room where it appeared I would not only be eating with Patricia but with our two dear guests as well.

It was the first time I properly realized that Patricia expected the possibility of one of them marrying me. She sat at the table as was her duty with me placed at her right side. Pierre was next to me and Bastien was at her left. A normal enough placement considering the amount of people but Patricia seemed to have placed greater significance to the arrangement and spent her time glancing at me than each suitor in turn.

"So, gentleman, are you enjoying your stay here?"

Bastien laughed. "You know I always do, Queen Patricia. It's always wonderful to visit you." He looked right at me as he said it, an action that Queen Patricia did not miss.

With pure glee in her eyes she turned to Pierre to await his response.

He did not laugh but instead smile happily and big enough he might as well have. "It's a beautiful kingdom, Your Majesty, and you have been more than generous to have me here. Your adopted daughter is charming as well."

I blushed and it was only my training that kept me from sinking into my seat. Though was I myself smiling? I was becoming one of those simpering and idiotic maidens Bastien had always liked so much. No wonder he was here.

The joy instantly faded from Bastien's face—clearly he had not expected such brashness in his competition—but Queen Patricia laughed right out, loud and long.

"Well, then, Lord Pierre!" she exclaimed as she slammed her knife to the table with a loud clank. "I like that about you! You are leaping straight to the point. Keep in mind that Princess Singette has already turned down a marriage to Bastien once—"

Bastien's face turned a distinct red at that.

"—but that still does not mean his competition will be any less fierce for he is a boy I know quite well. Princess Singette will be making the ultimate choice, as I'm sure you realize, and you can't possibly think that her hand will be offered exclusively to the two of you."

I couldn't hold myself back any longer. "You're encouraging this?"

She nodded and laughed. "Of course I am! You're a princess now and a beautiful one at that. Of course if you don't want to get married you don't have to get married. I had rather hoped you trusted me enough to know I wouldn't force you to do anything. But is it so wrong to announce that a marriage to you is a possibility? With your approval, I admit. Dear me, maybe I did speak too soon."

To my horror I found myself shaking my head. "No, no. It's all fine." Was it? I suppose I wasn't adversely opposed to the idea of getting married, but everything was happening so fast.

Bastien and Pierre, at least, seemed to like the idea almost as much as Patricia did.

"Then it's settled," she announced, picking her knife back up using it to carve her meat with more grace than her sudden announcement would suggest about her. "I'll make the announcement. I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I must allow my new daughter to have a greater exposure to young men, she had a rather sheltered childhood."

"Of course not," they said in near unison.

"You're inviting more to come here?" I managed to ask.

Patricia nodded. "Yes. I have room enough to host a bunch and it will be loas of fun. I promise you that you will enjoy it. They're be dances and hunts and tournaments. You will have plenty of opportunity to talk with any you take a fancy to. And who knows? You might just find a husband in the mess of it."

I nodded. I had to admit that it would take pressure off the Pierre and Bastien situation.

Somehow we all managed to finish our meal in relative peace.

The time after supper was dedicated to quieter things. I had sort of hoped that we could all sit together and chat, but just after the plates had been taken away Patricia whispered to me that I would need to spend some time with each of them in turn.

So since it was determined that Bastien did not like walks, I found myself strolling through a terrace on the arm of Pierre. It was quite pleasant, I had to admit. I still did not know Pierre very well and perhaps it was a good thing to get to know him. He was nice.

"So you're an orphan," he said.

It took me a moment to remember Singette's backstory, and I nodded. "Yes, left completely destitute as well. That's when Queen Patricia found me."

He smiled. "How good of her. Though to look at you I can't believe that any one would not offer you help had they seen you on the road."

Blushing, I brought a hand to my face. "I can't be that beautiful."

"Oh, but you are! Princess, you are exquisite."

"Thank-you. You sure know your compliments."

"I do enjoy words." He cleared his throat. "You are lovely, gracious, kind, sweet, enchanting, beautiful, dazzling, exquisite, pretty, stunning and…"

I laughed. "Did you run out of words?"

"I suppose I did."

"Am I just not worth any more words?"

His eyes went wide with terror. "No, no, that's not at all what I mean."

I laughed again. "I see. So—"

"Just let me find a thesaurus and I'll give you more words."

I really had no interest in waiting around for him to look up words. It was time to change the subject. "So what was your childhood like, Lord Pierre?"

He shrugged. "It was quite nice. We have nice grounds and I like my family. We like to ride horses."

I had never ridden a horse. "What's that like?"

"It's like riding a horse." He seemed unsure of what else to say.

"Fair enough," I replied. The air was growing rather dark and I wondered if we shouldn't head back to the palace. Though I suppose the twilight garden was quite romantic. "What else did you do?"

"Not archery."

"Yes, I am still better at it than you."

He took a long moment to think. "We had dogs. I would take them hunting."

I had always learned the key to conversation was to get the other person talking about themselves as was only polite, but I was growing bored and antsy. "Are you ever going to ask me why I was climbing a pillar?"

He stopped and my arm was nearly pulled form his. "I… I figured you liked climbing. That was all."

"But a pillar. At a time like that."

"Yes. It was strange but then again I haven't met all that many people."

"But Lord Pierre, I was trying to climb a pillar!"

He laughed, but it sounded strained and forced. "All right, then. Princess Singette, why were you climbing a pillar?"

I sighed. "Because I am a monkey princess turned mysteriously into a human girl."

Now his laugh was sincere. "That's a very good joke!"

I forced myself to smile. "Yes, well, I felt the mood should be lightened." It was not as if I had expected him to believe me.

"And lighten it you did! I had no idea you had such an imagination."

And I had no idea he would have the whole thing so funny. So I stood next to a bug-surrounded fountain while I waited for him to stop laughing.

Even when we were continuing our walk several minutes later he was still occasionally chuckling. Nothing else had been said in the meantime.

At least he easily amused. That was a nice quality.

"So, really," he finally asked. "Why were you climbing the pillar?"

"I suppose I found it the equivalent of a chair or something and I was frightened. And I do enjoying climbing trees."

"Such a strange hobby. It's like—"

Whatever simile he was to bring up was interrupted when a small furry shape darted out before us.

Pierre screamed and jumped in front of me. How heroic.

The creature scampered from the shadows and it was just who I had expected. Gigona smiled at me a very knowing smile.

"What is that?" Pierre asked in terror.

"A monkey," I said.

"A monkey…" he repeated. "Like the kind that King Achille and Queen Cerese hate. Oh, the stories I had heard from them."

I held out my arms and Gigona sprang into them. "See? She's quite tame. I've seen her around the palace from time to time. Must be someone's lost pet."

Pierre backed away from us before sneezing. "I hear they can tear faces off."

"Yes. But I don't think she will."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite. Here." I had to admit, Gigona did take the trouble of making herself adorable.

Pierre sneezed again.

Gigona sprang back to the ground. "I don't think he likes me," she said.

I shook my head.

"He's quite dull.

This time I nodded.


	24. In Which Monkeys are Discussed

Gigona left the next morning with a reasonable amount of fanfare, jumping past a window just as Pierre was passing. He didn't scream, like I secretly hoped he would, but he did jump enough to be amusing. She had said her goodbye to me earlier, but even so I was a little sad to see her scampering off into the trees. I wished her luck in returning to her kingdom and hoped nothing but the best for her while feeling gratitude it wasn't my problem. But was my own situation so much simpler? She was dealing with a world she knew and I still had to navigate the world of humans.

"Another monkey," Pierre said as soon as Gigona was out of sight. His voice was forcefully calm, surely an attempt to hide his panic.

We—consisting of Pierre, Bastien, and myself—were going for was just another walk after breakfast while I wondered why humans enjoyed going for walks so much. Even Bastien had given in. It should have been a relaxing walk, but I was grateful for a last glance of Gigona and something to shake up the monotony.

"Another monkey?" Bastien frowned as he leaned out the window, eyes searching. I had to wonder if he were hoping it were myself as Babiole. Hah. I was sure he had forgotten about that little monkey. "How many can their possibly be around here? And where did you see one before?"

"Last night," Pierre replied. I noticed he hung back from the window. "When walking with Princess Singette we saw one."

"I'm sure it's the same one," I said. Would a monkey-themed conversation lead to discussions of Babiole?

"Monkeys are very clever," Bastien turned from the window, his expression thoughtful. "The one at our palace could speak."

"Like a parrot?" Pierre asked.

"Monkeys aren't parrots," I snapped.

"No, she could reason," Bastien said. "She was very smart. I hoped the Monkey King was pleased with her."

I still sounded like nothing better than an exceptionally intelligent parrot. My teeth were even clenched. "You never speak much of that monkey, Prince Bastien. She must have been a charming pet." Yes, I was baiting him, but I could not help it.

"She wasn't a pet."

Pierre, who had resumed the walk without us, paused and turned back. "What was she if she wasn't a pet?"

"So, Lord Pierre, you call all animals pets?"

"Or useful. Like a horse or a cow or a goat?"

"So monkeys are on the same levels as livestock?" I asked.

"No, of course not. I for one have never heard of anyone riding a monkey or milking one."

I laughed right out at that, doubling over with my hands clutching my ribs. A small part of me wondered what Queen Patricia would think of that but I had yet to learn how a proper princess would laugh.

Both men watched me, amused, which only made me laugh all the harder. Was this part of propriety, watching a lovely princess laugh herself silly?

"Apparently she found that funny, Lord Pierre," Bastien said softly, a small grin on his face.

Pierre did look pleased with himself and, in my altered state of laughter, I imagined him attempting to come up with other amusing anecdotes for me. At last he thought of one. "I always have wanted to try monkey milk."

It was a little too indecent for my taste, but the attempt worked enough and I set into another round of giggles. Pierre's ego had never had such stroking. At last I gained control of myself and straightened up, gasping for breath.

"Excuse me," I said with all the dignity I could muster. "I can't remember the last time I had laughed so hard."

"Lord Pierre was actually quite serious about his comments," Bastien said. His smile was less genuine, somehow forced. It could not be good for him to have to compete against another man for a girl's attention.

My hands moved to my hair. I had so much hair now and it needed almost constant thought to keeping it nice. Besides, a lady always had to look nice, according to Queen Patricia. "Was he? Prince Bastien, you were the one who had a pet monkey. You would be the expert on such things."

His face turned a satisfying shade of red. "I wouldn't know. Babiole wasn't a pet. She was part of the court."

"So she was never used as livestock?"

"I should think not."

Part of me was surprisingly glad Bastien had thought more of me than that. "I still have trouble believe she was actually a part of your court. Monkies cannot be courtiers. It's insane."

"She could speak. People loved her. You visited my home, you have heard all of this."

Pierre struggled to keep his face from falling. He clearly did not like being ignored. "I wasn't aware you had a talking monkey."

"Actually, I believe his royal mother the Queen was the owner of the talking monkey," I said.

"No one owned her, exactly." Bastien's face was still red. I had forgotten how funny he could look when uncomfortable.

"So a monkey earned its way to being part of your court?" Pierre asked.

"Yes." I struggled to keep from putting my hands to my hips. It was a very instinctive human action of frustration. "How did this monkey join your court?"

"My mother got her as a pet for me," Bastien replied. "But I still declare she wasn't a pet. Certainly not a pet."

"Which is it, then?" I asked. "Was she a pet or wasn't she?"

"How did she talk?" Pierre asked.

For the briefest moment Bastien looked ready to bite his lip off. Then, in a classic twist of Bastien attitude he threw his head back and laughed. "Why are you all so concerned with this monkey?"

"You are the one who brought her up," I said with a shrug that I hoped appeared indifferent to the whole conversation. Had my voice risen much during it?

"No, Princess. You brought her up. You specifically addressed me for information regarding monkeys. As if I'm the expert source of monkey-based knowledge in this group."

So I had brought myself up. That did not mean he had to respond. I decided to take a different conversation route. "Actually, if I may say so, I know quite a bit about monkeys. And no, Lord Pierre, they are traditionally not for livestock purposes though I can't speak for every culture in the world."

"Ah!" Pierre exclaimed. "So you are a scholar, then?"

"I dabble."

"I like histories," he continued, his face bright. "I am currently studying the span of the Roman Empire."

"I have yet to read any of that but I'm sure it's fascinating." Perhaps Pierre would be wonderful for discussing such things. Goodness knew Bastien was too silly to read such things. "I love histories. And the sciences. I like reading occasionally about the sciences."

Pierre laughed. "I can't imagine Queen Patricia had to do much with you to present you as a princess! You are a delight!"

"Thank-you!" I replied, flattered.

Bastien said nothing.

Perhaps I was just far too cruel. I turned to him, grinning. "What about you, Bastien? Do you enjoy studying histories? Or the biology and habitats of monkeys?"

He shook his head. "I guess I never had the head for those." He cleared his throat. "Which do you prefer?"

"Clearly she has made a specific study into monkeys," said Pierre.

Only enough to study myself, but there was no point in bringing that up. "I like animals. A good study of animals is always good to read."

"I always wanted to read more about astronomy."

"And I want to learn about the Roman Empire. You'll have to lend me some books, Lord Pierre."

"I will have to and they are yours at your bidding. I have quite a collection. At least, my family does. I have a crazy old uncle who is determined to trace our lineage back to the rulers of Rome—"

"I enjoy reading about fairy tales," Bastien interrupted.

I couldn't believe he had said that out loud. I had never thought he would use that information for any purpose than impressing a girl with his tenderness and romance. That was when I realized I was a girl he was trying to impress. "That's very nice, Prince Bastien, but we're talking about real books here. Tomes of knowledge. Not fairy stories and romance."

Pierre smiled.

Bastien did so, as well. The sort of smile that spoke of a challenge. My heart skipped a beat and I realized Bastien had no intention of backing down. "I'm surprised that you have such disdain for fairy tales. After all, you are the one practically living one."

I froze. He had no idea how true his words were.

He continued. "A homeless girl without wealth or family suddenly transformed into a princess surrounded by prospective husbands. And with a fairy godmother to boot."

"Prince Bastien is right about that," Pierre said with a nod.

I rolled my eyes. "A fairy godmother I've seen twice who attacks neighboring queens."

"Who probably deserved it," said Bastien. "Queen Cerise is very unpopular."

"Twice?" Pierre echoed. "You have seen her more than once."

My mouth fell open in anticipation of a response that was not coming. "I…" I couldn't think of anything. I picked up my skirt and made the move to continue our walk, moving my feet as fast as the dress would allow me.

Unfortunately Bastien and Pierre's clothing allowed them more freedom with movement. They darted after me. Bastien seemed the most amused and impressed with the news while Pierre just looked startled.

"Well, well, well," Bastien said. "So there is more to this little fairy tale than she is letting on. It only seems proper."

"She of course came to me when I was a baby," I said. That was technically true, though it made for three times. "So twice."

"But you don't remember her when you were a baby," said Pierre. "You were too small. Babies don't remember such things."

Somehow he had managed to learn of the Roman Empire and still be a dolt. "Of course they don't," I said tersely. "I just meant—"

"I don't think you want to tell us what you really mean." I had never seen Bastien look so happy.

"I'm going to call guards on both of you."

"Oh, you will not."

"I just might."

"I did nothing wrong," Pierre said defensively.

"Which would make calling the guards even more fun for me."

"It's just a simple question," Bastien insisted.

I rounded a corner of the hall, stopped, and turned to face both of them. I knew I was making it worse by acting so weird about it. "And my simple answer is that neither of you need to know about the dealings with my fairy godmother."

Pierre gasped. "So you have made a request from her, then?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then that's what we're asking."

Bastien nodded in agreement. "Yes. What was this other meeting with your fairy godmother?"

I looked him right in the eyes. He was so very handsome and so very irritating. "If I told you the truth about it, would you really believe me?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm not so sure you would, Prince Bastien. In fact, I daresay you would instead make fun of me."

"Only if it's ridiculous." He was beginning to look uncomfortable again, thank goodness.

"Is that so? Then what is ridiculous? When was the last time anyone told you about a fairy godmother and what was your reaction?"

Unless some other girl had mentioned a fairy godmother over the years, I knew the answer. Babiole. Me.

"If I trusted them," he said slowly, "I would believe anything they had to say."

So he didn't trust me. I almost said it aloud. Instead I smiled. "Fine, then. I will tell you. Both of you." Pierre surely wanted to be included. "Some years ago, I was eating a picnic lunch by the water and met with Fanferluche for the first time in my memory. We talked for a few minutes and that was that. A rather boring story, I'm afraid."

"Actually," Bastien said. "It answered my question. All I wanted to know."

"You may make fun of it, if you wish," I said.

"Why would I do that?"

What a frustrating question. I had no idea why he would.

Which is why I wanted an answer.


	25. In Which Singette Turns Down a Proposal

For all of her love of frills and fancies Queen Patricia certainly could put an event together. Before long what had begun as whispers and vague plans had become the bright realities of Queen Patricia's "little series of games" culminating on a warm morning when I crawled from my quarters to find the palace swarming with all sorts of young men.

I of course ran right back to my room, wondering how I had let Queen Patricia do such things. For a woman who had spent so many years avoiding a husband of her own she was amazingly set on finding one for me. I paced the floor, circling my bed a dozen times, included a bit of studying my reflection in the mirror. Would I have been considered such a marital prize had I still been a monkey?

But all my years of court life taught me that I could only hide in my room so long. Eventually I put on a flattering gown, made myself pretty, and ventured forth with all the charm I could muster. Immediately I was the victim of much adoration and fawning and I could not deny that it all was rather fun in a bizarre way. It was like when I was still celebrated as the talking monkey, only more preferable.

The assortment of suitors included samples from all walks of life—that is, anything from the sons of wealthy merchants and up the social scale from there. I met all types and even managed to put together a few names and faces.

Queen Patricia, of course, was happier than I. She bustled about in as queenly a fashion as possible, complaining loudly at all she had to do and apologizing even more loudly for the awful state of the palace that she had spent so long preparing. Dinner was a light affair somehow made elaborate. The food was bright and fresh, the conversation loud and chaotic, and I should not have been surprised I found myself having fun. Amongst all the madness Queen Patricia caught my eye, smiled, and mouthed something about having my choice among two dozen young men.

I barely saw Bastien or Pierre all day. Those choice glances revealed Pierre happily socializing and Bastien drifting to the sidelines to watch. He either was sizing up the competition or giving up altogether and observing in jealousy.

The afternoon was a fury of more socializing, repeats of introductions of those men I had forgotten, and probably more organized events I could not remember. Queen Patricia's plan for me was of course to be quite solid—that day was merely a casual affair, a way to get friendly before the chaos started.

Queen Patricia planned to have two days of competitions.

At last afternoon came to a close and more guests arrove. Ladies. The evening would consist of one of Queen Patricia's famous balls and apparently even she realized I could not be expected to dance with every single man there. To those ladies I was not introduced. I was made up all over again and shoved out to be admired anew.

I had hardly put on the proper poise for a ball and smilingly greeted a few young ladies when a hand fell on my shoulder.

It was Bastien.

I smiled before I could stop myself. "You're still here."

He blinked twice, then returned the smile. "Why would I have left?"

I shook my head and turned my smile to a passing suitor before returning it to Bastien. "Whenever I saw you today you seemed to be inching toward the doors. I figured you would either leave or doing something nefarious like seek out a weapon and kill everyone."

"All your suitors?" He made a face. "That would take an awful lot of work, Princess. I would get bored after awhile. I don't care much for hand-to-hand combat."

"So you must have confidence you will win my hand."

He laughed outright at that. "You must recall that Queen Patricia has known me all my life. Not to pressure you, but I'm sure I would be her first choice for your husband."

I had not thought of that. No wonder Queen Patricia had allowed him to hang around so long. "Your mother already made the offer."

"Yes. But now I make it of my own choice." His eyes were right on mine. The gaze was solid and steady, holding not a hint of a joke.

I had a sudden urge to climb up yet another pillar.

He continued to watch me. Waiting.

"I…" I had no idea what I was trying to say. Was my body so set on a response? "I… Queen Patricia arranged this whole event and…" Had he truly just asked me to marry him? And he was serious? The last time I had suggested marriage he had laughed right at me and now he had the nerve to bring it up himself? It was all I could do to hit him and how would I have explained that?

He smiled again, though he looked hurt. "I understand. You're good at this. So vague and polite. Perfect for the court. I do expect a dance with, though. Later." He turned to go.

"It's not that I don't care for you!" I called after him.

Bastien stopped. "And I care for you."

I looked quickly about the ballroom, then urged him to the wall. Being overheard was not what I wanted. "What does that even mean, Prince Bastien?"

He looked startled. "Why, exactly what I said. I really can't explain it. You are an exquisite creature, straight from the heavens. You are the very light of the morning."

I sighed. Queen Patricia would soon berate me for not seeing to her selection of suitors. Though of course if she did favor Bastien she would encourage this clandestine thing. "Did you steal that from some poet's collection?" Not quite the sweet response I should have given.

His jaw dropped. "I actually came up with it all by myself."

"Do you care for me or do you just like throwing pretty phrases at girls?"

The confidence was gone. All that was left was a stammering and blushing Bastien. It was almost cute.

"I must be off, Prince Bastien," I said with a curtsey and a turn to go.

"But I feel like I know you!"

That received from me only the briefest pause. "Not a surprising thing considering we have had sufficient time in which to get acquainted. I suppose you're going to next tell me that you never felt this way about any other girl."

"I—"

I smiled back at him. "That's what I thought."

"Princess Singette, you can't get upset over the truth!" he replied, walking quickly after me. "It's not my fault the phrase is so used."

"So you're telling me that you mean it this time unlike you have ever meant it before?" The pointed question felt good on my tongue. Speaking to Bastien this way was fun.

"Yes, and without all the sarcasm you drown the poor statement in."

"I did no such thing. The statement is long dead."

For a long time he said nothing. That I had not expected, and I stopped. From the corner of my eye I noticed one of my other suitors striding forward with the sure invitation of a dance that would be extended as soon as Prince Bastien would leave me alone.

"And so is your tongue, I see," I said to Bastien.

He laughed. A strong, heady, and downright mocking laugh that set my blood boiling. "You're fighting hard not to accept my proposal, aren't you?"

I spun around to face him. His face was as delighted as his laugh.

"You don't want to want to marry me," he continued. "I can see that, now."

My awaiting dance partner, emboldened by my lack of proposal acceptance, cleared his throat loudly. I flashed him a patient smile. I would be more than thrilled to dance with him as soon as Bastien would go away.

"You, Bastien," I said, letting the prince title fall, "are just as pig-headed and vain as I remember!"

"Remember from where, exactly?"

I wouldn't be responding to that. "I don't want to want to marry you? Am I really that transparent? Oh, the boundless undeclared love I hold for you that I cannot admit even to myself! How's that for drowned in sarcasm? This clearly must be your first proposal. And to a princess like me!"

"If I may remind you, you're only a princess because of Queen Patricia."

If only he knew the half of it. "And that's good enough for her. I'm considering calling your statement an insult to me."

"You wouldn't." He didn't look terribly scared.

I sighed and shook my head. "No, no, I will not. Just… just go dance with someone else for awhile."

"We never danced."

"You know what I mean. And if you will just excuse me…"

The long-suffering prince (or was he the son of a knight?) stepped forward. "May I have this dance?"

I graciously accepted. The prince or whomever he was made for a marvelous dance partner, the kind that could tolerate my clumsiness, though I was still irked that Bastien hadn't bothered to ask me for a dance.

The ball was, true to Queen Patricia's abilities, wonderful. With Bastien out of sight I found myself having a good time. I enjoyed the conversation, learning and relearning names, the dancing, the music, the smattering of boastings on who would succeed at which competitions. The ladies there for the night complimented me on my gown and I on theirs.

But there was one girl in particular I found interesting. I vaguely recalled an introduction, though her name slipped my mind. In my defense she was not particularly noticeable. Though the quality of her gown held its own among the others, she herself lacked the same attraction. The only girls I had ever called ugly were the irritating ones that would flock to Bastien and I did that only to be just as irritating. I wouldn't dare call this girl ugly, but I imagined others would be able to name plenty of flaws about her. She did not participate in the conversation or the dancing, and it was precisely this that drew her from the unnoticeable to the center of my attention.

Poor thing.

But before I could make my way to her, she disappeared into the crowd of dancers.

I searched for her, kicking myself for the shock that someone would ask her to dance.

But a moment later she reappeared, a smile doing wonders for her face. She was a fine dancer, better than I could ever hope to be. Her feet moved effortlessly with the music, her hands placed position perfect on her partner.

Bastien.


End file.
